


Bellum Parare (To Prepare for War)

by iclethea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Battle of Hogwarts, Character Death, Crossover, Gen, Half-Blood Prince AU, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Memories, Pensieves, Romance, Season/Series 06, Season/Series 07, The Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 93,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iclethea/pseuds/iclethea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Second War is rising fast. Dumbledore calls upon the Winchesters for help to teach at Hogwarts. Two Muggles at Hogwarts. The war becomes worse, and all of a sudden, Sam and Dean are sucked into a war with Witches and Wizards, Angels and Demons..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hunts and Letters

**Chapter 1**

**August 8 th 2010**

The 1967 Chevy Impala roared down the abandoned dirt road in the middle of nowhere, one of hundreds she had travelled upon in the past forty years. Some no name town, one of thousands visited in the nearly forty years that had passed since it was manufactured. The night was black, with nothing but the twinkling bright stars for light along with the bright headlamps of the car. The sleek black metal shone from the moon's glow. Headlamps glared, igniting the road ahead in blinding light. The Impala had had a long life and was still running, travelling the two hunters place to place loyally.

 

On April 24, 1967, a black sedan rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville. No one gave a damn about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important object in pretty much the whole universe. The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have... and a few things they don't.

 

They were reaching a town, reaching some nameless motel where they could sleep for the night. The thoughts of a warm bed soothed the after hunt adrenaline that flowed through the brothers' veins.

 

The owner of the car, a man of 6 foot with sandy blonde hair and piercing hazel green eyes standing out from the handsome features, was driving the car with the knowledge that driving it for almost twenty years had given him. His driving was adjusted, perfect to the car he knew and loved. He knew exactly how to move her, to brake easily, and he cared for her as if she were a lover.

 

The oldest man had never stayed in relationships long. To be honest, he was barely _in_ a relationship. The only relationship this man ever had with women was a few hours at night. The oldest man groaned as he shifted his right shoulder. It was surely dislocated. He drove with his left hand, lightly tanned fingers curling around the black steering wheel. He looked over at the man beside him and smirked.

 

The man beside him was handsome, and looked younger, yet taller than the other man. It was evident in the way he sat, his feet squashed up underneath the dashboard. His long brown hair fell in his green eyes and he winced as blood pooled around a gash in his forehead.

 

The Impala swerved into a parking space in front of the Thunderbird Inn. The men got out and the taller man dug the keys out from his pocket.

“Ya OK Sammy?” The eldest asked. His brother nodded.

“M'fine Dean, and it's Sam,” Sam Winchester said with a smile.

“This is the life huh?” Dean grinned. “Sleazy motels, hunting ghosts and who knows what other crap. Almost getting killed everyday... loads of fun,” Dean snorted and Sam laughed in response as they both arrived at room 66, their home for the next few days until a new hunt came along.

 

They went inside and dropped the bags of weapons they had used on the beds. Sam groaned as he fumbled for the first aid kit. As they were hunters, theirs would be better stocked than a normal household would, containing around 10 types of medication for pain, bandages, needles and thread, antiseptics, cleaners, and slings.

 

“Sam, will you do my shoulder? I'll stitch you up in a minute,” Dean asked. Sam nodded. “Wait, how many fingers am I holding up?”he asked holding up three slightly bent fingers, the results of repetitive breaking. Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“I don't have a concussion Dean, and three fingers,” Sam answered with a huff. Dean grinned.

Sam stood and approached his brother. He placed one hand behind his dislocated shoulder, and one on the front side to hold him steady. Without warning and with brute strength, Sam pushed Dean's shoulder rapidly, hearing as it clicked back into place.

 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Dean swore, grunting loudly in pain. Sam handed him two pain pills that wouldn't make him drowsy, along with a glass of water. Dean took the pills, but he shook his head and grabbed the bottle of Jack that was within reach. He popped the pills into his mouth and took a large gulp of the whiskey. The pleasant burn of the alcohol hit his throat and he let out a sigh of happiness.

 

“OK, now you,” Dean said, moving his injured shoulder slowly, a hiss of pain escaping. He grabbed the needle and thread from the first aid kit. He wiped Sam's forehead with alcohol from the Jack Daniels bottle and began sewing up the cut. Luckily it wasn't deep and it was only a small cut, compared to others Sam had gotten in the past. He finished and again poured the alcohol over the wound to clean it.

“There you go champ. All better?” he teased. Sam scowled.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch. Come on, we better hit the hay,” Dean yawned, arms outstretched, the bottle of amber liquid in his hands. He took a swig before putting it on the tiny table.

“That poltergeist was crazy,” he commented.

“Yeah it was. I mean, who or what kills people by ripping their lungs out?” Sam grimaced. Tonight's hunt had reminded him too much of Zachariah ripping his lungs out to make Dean say yes to Michael.

“Sick bastards Sam,” Dean answered, remembering the same thing.

“Yeah,” Sam answered but Dean was already snoring lightly. He rolled his eyes and lay back, and drifted to sleep.

 

***

 

 

Dean awoke with a start to a sharp tapping on a window.

“What the hell?” he muttered. He arose slowly, walking towards the window. There on the windowsill, was a small tawny owl. It had an envelope tied to it's leg, looking at him expectantly. Dean turned around and shook his brother.

“Wha...?” Sam groaned sleepily.

“Dude, there's a freaking _owl_ on the windowsill!” Dean exclaimed in confusion. Sam went over to the window and saw the owl. He moved to open it.

“What the hell are you doing? Are you nuts?” Dean snapped.

“There's something tied to it's leg,” Sam said, as if that explained everything. Dean's scowl deepened.

“And that means we let the thing in? It could be cursed with something,” Dean pointed out.

 

Sam ignored him and opened the window to let the owl in. It hopped inside and the youngest Winchester untied the envelope from the owl's leg. The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink.

 _Messrs_ _Sam and Dean Winchester,_

_Room 66_

_The Thunderbird Inn,_

_Boise, Idaho,_

_United States of America_

Sam turned it over and saw a purple wax seal with a coat of arms; a lion,an eagle,a badgerand a snakesurrounding a large letter 'H'.

“What the hell?” Sam muttered.

“They got the address exact... too exact if you ask me,” Dean said, suspicious. He couldn't wrap his head around what was going on. With pale fingers, Sam broke the wax seal and opened the letter, revealing a heavy paper with more emerald-green ink in elegant script. Sam began to read the letter aloud.

 

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer Supreme_

_Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)_

“What a name,” Dean smirked. Sam glared at him and continued to read.

_Dear Sam and Dean Winchester,_

_We would like to inform you that we would consider it an honour that you join our staff in teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The class we request you to teach would be Demonology, a study of all the supernatural creatures you have encountered to aid our students for the upcoming war in our world. We are aware that your father, John Winchester has trained you to hunt the supernatural since childhood._ So, naturally you would be the perfect people for the job.

_I understand if you do not wish to join us, but we would consider it an honour to have hunters to help in the rising of the Dark Wizard Voldemort._

_If you have any questions for me, I would be happy to give you the answers you require. If you do agree to join us, I will meet you tomorrow at 2pm. The school term begins on September the first._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

_What the hell_ were the first thoughts to enter the Winchester brothers' minds. Magic? Witchcraft? Sure, they had heard of all of that before, but on a good side? Nope, it just didn't happen.

Sam thought about it for a minute and then said, “Let’s go check it out.”  
“Are you serious?” Dean smacked him up side the head. “This could be a trap.” His mind was reeling from all their recent encounters. Who knew what the hell this was? Shape-shifter? Demon? It could be freaking anything. And his brother just wanted to _check it out?_  
“Well if it is a trap then maybe we could set a trap for them.”  
“But what if they anticipate us setting a trap so they set a trap to trap our trap that we were using to trap them before they trap us.” Dean said it like it should make perfect sense.  
“What?” Sam finally looked up from the letter. “Come on dude, how scary could this Minerva McGonagall be?”

"Very. We didn't think Lilith was that bad did we?" Dean snapped. Sam winced.

Lilith had been the one to kill Dean when his deal came due. She had set her Hellhounds on him. Sam had been forced to stand there as his older brother, his best friend being torn apart by malicious invisible dogs. He remembered with a shiver, holding his dead brother close, crying with Dean's head on his shoulders as Bobby tried to soothe him. But he couldn't be soothed. Dean had always done that throughout his childhood and at that time, Dean was dead, gone, his big brother torn from him in a haze of blood and gore. Dean coming back had filled the hole in Sam since Dean had died.

"Hey, Sam!" Sam came back to awareness to see Dean waving his hand in front of his little brother's face.

“Yeah, you're right.” Sam made a face at the memory. “But I’m still curious.”

Dean took the letter from his brother’s hands and studied the innocent looking parchment, like there was some secret encryption that they were missing that could turn into some death trap, or worse. It brought to mind all those spy films when the note always said _This note will self-destruct in three… two… one…. BOOM!_ All that Dean could find was the impressive penmanship of a middle aged woman. He sighed and gave it to Sam.  
“What are you doing?” Dean grinned as he watched Sam scrutinize the letter like the nerd he was. Sam ignored him, running encryption codes through his head trying to decipher hiding meanings like Dean had done.

“Whatever man, I’m gonna have a drink.” He walked over to the mini bar.

“What the hell?” He tried to open the cabinet and the door was locked.  
“You do know that you have to rent the key to get to the booze?” Sam murmured without taking his eyes off the letter.  
Dean sighed. "It's not fair that I have to get stuck in this crummy motel with my brother who is obsessing over a letter, obviously written by an owl trainer and I can’t even get drunk to forget it all.”  
Sam smirked at his brother, “Yeah, life isn’t fair, is it?”

“Shut up bitch,” Dean snapped, rummaging in the duffel bags and finding another bottle of whiskey.

He sighed happily as it ran down his throat.

They kept going back and forth over the pros and cons of the letter while it lay on the table, just like an ordinary letter. But with everything the boys had to deal with over the past few years nothing surprised them. For all they knew it could explode in the next few seconds. But Sam still wanted to go.  
“No way man, it’s too dangerous.” Dean put his foot down. “Besides, she didn’t even give us directions! How are we supposed to get to this place? Tie ourselves to the stupid bird’s legs?” He gestured to the owl that was still perched on the windowsill like it was waiting on something. Then it swooped up to swiftly clamp its beak down on Dean’s fingers.  
“Son of a bitch! What the hell bird?!” Dean whacked the owl towards the wall where it flew up the wall narrowly missing it. It left them a little “present” and then flew out the window.  
“That’s what you get for calling it stupid.” Sam rolled his eyes. “What’s the harm in just meeting with her? If it makes you feel better, we can take some of the guns just to be safe.”

“But we have no idea what she’s capable of!” Dean snapped. “She could be a demon, spirit, Wraith, or she could be a witch and hex us into oblivion.”  
Sam rolled his eyes. He patched up his brother’s fingers.

“Look man, why don’t we just call up Cas? He could have some info for us on these Hogwarts people.”

Dean sighed. "What the hell. Cas?" he called. "We need your help about something. Get your feathery angel ass down here."

 

A loud fluttering of wings sounded through the room along with the sound of clothes whirling through the air as the Angel of the Lord swept into the run down motel room. He was of average height, with black shaggy hair, midnight blue eyes, pale skin and a confused expression and his head tilted to the side. He wore his usual clothes, a white shirt, open suit jacket, slacks, a dark blue tie worn backwards and loose around his neck. A tan trench-coat covered the suit and hung open.

 

“Hello Dean,” Cas said, his gaze towards the older hunter. “Sam,” he finished.

“Hey Cas,” Dean and Sam nodded.

“Why have you called me?” Castiel asked.

“We need help. We got this letter a little while ago. Could you tell us if they are telling the truth?”

Sam handed the parchment to the Angel and he read quickly, blue eyes scanning the page rapidly. When he finished, he looked up.

“This woman is telling the truth. She is not evil and needs your help,” Castiel said simply.

“But we've faced witches before. She doesn't seem to do that kind of stuff,” Sam stated, confused.

“These wizards are different.” Cas stated. “It’s in their blood, they are more like wiccans. They get their powers from their wands or their bloodlines.”  
“Wands?” Dean asked incredulously. “Seriously? Like an enchanted stick?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Do you know anything about their culture, their society?”

“Well they are almost the same as humans. They have a government called “The Ministry of Magic”, and they have established three known schools, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in England, the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic a more formal school for young witches and wizards that is in France, and the Durmstrag Institute for Magical Learning in Scandinavia is also coed but is more closely related to the Dark Arts.”

“Dark Arts?” The brothers said in unison.  
“The Dark Art is similar to the witches that you have dealt with before. Wizards who participate in the Dark Arts pledge their allegiance to the wizard Voldemort that is mentioned in this letter.” Cas noticed the bottle of whiskey and frowned. “You are drinking this early?”

“No.” Dean hid the bottle. “So these people at Hogwarts. They're harmless to us?”

“Yes, unless you do something to upset them.”

“Which, in case you haven't noticed, we tend to do a lot,” Dean smirked. Sam snorted.  
“What are they gonna do?” Sam asked in a patronizing tone. “Poke us to death with their magic sticks? Kill us? We've died before.”  
Dean and Cas exchanged looks.

“Shut the hell up Sam,” Dean scowled.

“So do you think we should meet them?” Sam asked.

“Yes I do,” Castiel nodded. “They are of no harm to you.”

Dean and Sam nodded.

“Cas, why do hunters not know about them? A hunter must have come across one before,” Sam said, confused.

“They have, but the witches and wizards wiped the hunters' memories if they found out about them to protect themselves,” Castiel explained.

“Thanks,” they said and with a flutter of invisible wings, Castiel was gone.

 

Dean turned and collapsed on the bed, snoring before his head hit the pillow. The dull sound of the bottle banging on the floor sounded. It didn't break, but it lay on its side, the cap still on. Sam rolled his eyes.


	2. Witch at the Door

**Chapter 2**

The morning of August 9th brought with it cloudy skies and bad weather to make the happiest person miserable. Sam and Dean Winchester slept uncomfortably. Not that they weren't used to it.

Sam woke first, green eyes opening blearily. He yawned, feeling the stitched up gash in his face sting in pain. He frowned as he sat up. He looked over to see his older brother laying on his stomach, over the covers, fully clothed still, with his head to the side and his mouth slightly open. He snorted in amusement.

Getting out of bed, he walked to the tiny bathroom that lay across from the beds. The room was cool, forming goosebumps on Sam's skin. The prospect of a good shower made him feel a lot better as he entered the bathroom and turned the shower on. The hot water gushed from the nozzle and Sam smiled a little as he got undressed. He stepped into the shower, enjoying the hot water as it flowed down his skin. After his hair had been washed with what Dean dubbed 'chick shampoo', he got out and wrapped the towel around his waist as he heard sounds outside the door. Surely Dean getting up. He heard his brothers voice calling from behind the door.

 

“Hey Sasquatch! Save some hot water for me!” his brother's voice grumbled. Sam rolled his eyes. He got dressed in his blue and white flannel shirt and a pair of jeans that had tiny holes in them from previous hunts. He opened the door to see his brother at the table examining the note.

“She said she'd be here at two in the afternoon,” Dean stated. Sam looked at his watch.

“It's only ten in the morning,” he answered.

 

“We might as well pack. And get some breakfast,” Dean said, smiling at the thought of food. Dean left the room as Sam grabbed the keys to the Impala.

“I'll get breakfast. What do you want?” 

“Usual!” Dean called back. Sam left the room, closing the door behind him. He walked towards Dean's baby. 

 

Dad had given Dean that car when he had turned eighteen and Dean had looked after it since. In a bizarre twist of fate, when Dean had been brought back to 1973 by Zachariah, Dean had helped his then nineteen or twenty year old father choose the car instead of the Volkswagen van he was originally going to buy. 

 

Dean usually never let anyone but himself drive the car, but he did let Sam drive sometimes, or when Dean was knocked out from something and Sam had to drive. He remembered the accident with Dad. They had been driving, only an hour after the Yellow Eyed Demon had stopped possessing his father. 

 

They had carried a barely conscious and badly hurt Dean to the Impala when a huge demon driven semi truck had smashed into them, forcing the car back before finally stopping as a useless heap of metal. The three of them had been rushed to hospital. Sam was okay, which was a little surprising because even though he wasn't on the side of the car that the truck hit, he had only gained a few bruises and cuts. His father had gotten a broken right arm and broken leg with cuts to boot.

 

Sam had only realised later, that the reason he had not been hurt so badly was probably because Yellow Eyes didn't want Sam dead before he would form his demon army and make the special children fight to the death.

 

Dean had been the worst. He was comatose. It had been terrifying as the doctors spoke, saying that his brother would never wake up. They didn't know Dean. He was a stubborn bastard, a guaranteed trait inherited by Winchesters. Then Dean had woken up. It was the best Sam had ever felt, seeing his brother alive and awake. Sam remembered walking down the corridor a few hours later, and stopping in his tracks to see his father on the floor, clearly dead. Sam and Dean had both watched as the doctors tried and failed to revive their father.

 

_Time of death, 10:41 am._ The doctor's voice echoed in his head. Sam sighed. It had been devastating. To make it worse, they had found out that John had made a deal to save Dean in exchange for the Colt, which was the demon killing gun, and his own life.

  
Sam thought about the last argument that he had with his Dad.  
 _Go to hell_ was the last thing he'd ever said to his Dad. Looking at the situation with new eyes, he could understand his Dad’s intentions. Sam was only a baby when his mother died, so he never really knew her, therefore he couldn’t really mourn the loss. But for his Dad, and Dean, it meant more to them to kill the demon than it meant to him.   


But his father was right; he should have killed it when he had the chance. _How could I have killed it though?_ He thought to himself. _I would have killed Dad in the process._ That’s just something I couldn’t live with.

  
John Winchester had been possessed by the demon; Sam had the opportunity to kill it. He could have shot him with the Colt but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He seriously doubted Dean could have either. 

 

At that point in time, Sam had never seen Dean so depressed. He drank more, sat alone and wouldn't answer him when he asked him something. Sam sighed. He pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store and got out, walking inside. His hair swept in the breeze, getting in his eyes. 

 

He entered the store and walked over to the deli counter. On the other side was a woman with way too much make-up and peroxide blonde hair.

“Hey,” the woman smiled.

“Hey, could I get two rolls with bacon sausage and egg please?” he asked the woman whose name-tag read Cindy. Sam nodded as she started making the rolls, looking in the distance. He looked out the window, seeing a small tabby grey and black cat on the wall that bordered the store's parking lot. 

 

His phone pinged and Sam looked back, pulling his phone from his pocket. He looked at the screen, seeing a text message from Dean. _Get more beer on the way back. All out._

“Of course,” Sam muttered.

 

The peroxide haired woman came back with their order. Sam thanked her and retrieved the beer and whiskey before paying, along with a few snacks and Cokes. Placing the food on the passenger seat, he drove back to the motel.

 

As he drove back to the motel, his mind wandered back to the letter. Cas had told him that the woman was telling the truth about everything. But was Cas telling the truth about them? Would he lie to them? No. Sam shook the thought off. Cas wouldn't do that. 

 

He arrived back at the motel and with a sigh, Sam got out of the car and went to their room. He pulled out the key and opened the door to see Dean putting their things in their duffel bags. He was in a different shirt and his leather jacket was on along with a new pair of trousers.

 

“Hey,” Sam said as he set the food down. Dean approached him and took his food from Sam and grabbed a fork. He dug into his food and Sam rolled his eyes as he got his own. They ate in silence and when they were finished, they threw the paper plates of food into the bin.

 

“We have a few hours to kill,” Dean said. “Might as well clean the guns.” Sam nodded as Dean dug out the weapons bag. He ran a cloth over, dragging the oil away with it as he cleaned it. Sam joined him. There wasn't much speaking, but three hours later at one o'clock they decided they had to do something.

 

“We have to get ready,” Sam said. Dean nodded and threw him a can of spray paint and pointed to the ceiling. Sam nodded as Dean rummaged a bag of rock salt from the duffel. He poured a new salt line along the doorway and along the only window that was at the back. Sam sprayed the ceiling with the symbol he knew so well. 

 

Dean got up, the amulet bouncing slightly over his t-shirt. After Dean had thrown it in the trash after getting back from Heaven, Sam had retrieved it. He knew that Dean would regret throwing it away like that. It meant a lot to Dean. 

 

By the time they had finished, it was 1:55 pm. Dean and Sam were standing facing the door, guns in hand. A loud crack sounded from behind them and the two brothers whirled around. There, the tabby grey and black cat that Sam had seen before was sitting calmly on the tiny dining table.

 

 

“That cat was outside the grocery store when I was getting the food,” Sam noted quietly. The cat moved, jumping off of the table, and changed. The cat became larger and a few seconds later, a woman was standing in front of them. She looked to be in her mid-fifties, but she had an aura that implied that of someone a few decades older. Her face looked strict with jet black hair tied back in a sharp bun under a pointed hat. She wore a plain black dress adorned with the lion symbol Sam and Dean had inspected on the wax seal of the letter.

 

Dean and Sam had their guns aimed at her at once. 

“Those are hardly necessary,” the woman said, gesturing to the guns. Neither Winchester relaxed.

“Who are you?” Dean growled. 

 

“Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Transfiguration Professor and Head of Gryffindor House in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm sure you received my letter yesterday,” Minerva said calmly.

 

“Prove it. How do we know you're not lying?” Sam demanded. Professor McGonagall sighed. 

“If you want proof…” she pulled a small hexagon shaped card somewhere from beneath her robes and tossed it to Dean. 

“ _Christo,_ ” Dean mumbled. She did not flinch.  


Sam looked at the card. There was a picture of the woman standing in front of him, but this picture was different. The picture moved like a video, she had that down turned small mouth like she had just eaten a lemon, and her arms were crossed, her free hand drumming along her forearm. Then in the next second she walked out of the frame. Underneath the moving picture was her name “Minerva McGonagall” He handed it to Dean he watched as his brother inspected the card.

“It moves!” Dean flipped the card over and back again trying to figure out its secrets.   
“Well naturally.” Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. “Oh that’s right, Muggle pictures do not move.” She looked at Sam in particular.

  
“Did you – did she just call me a Muggle?” Sam stuttered. “What the hell is a Muggle?!”

“Language please Mr. Winchester.” The Professor sounded miffed. She sat down at the small dinette table and pulled out her ‘enchanted stick’ and tapped Sam’s laptop Dean’s bottle of whiskey on the table three times each. 

 

“ _Vera_ _Verto,_ ” she muttered and the laptop turned into a tea cup and the whiskey into a pot of tea. Both men were mystified as she poured the tea into the cup and started drinking it.   
“That was a perfectly good bottle!” Dean whined. “That’s still amazing though…” his mind almost went haywire with the possibilities of this.

Sam looked at her darkly. Nothing good can come from a woman who makes hot tea out of whiskey. She completely disregarded Dean’s comment. 

 

“Look on the back of the card if you want my credentials.”

Dean flipped over the card and read it aloud.

 

“ _Madam Professor Minerva McGonagall: Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor house and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, member of the first and second Order of the Phoenix. She is listed in the Ministry of Magic’s Animagus Registry as a tabby cat with square spectacle markings around the eyes. After graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic for two years then she chose to return to Hogwarts to teach Transfiguration. She replaced her old mentor Albus Dumbledore as the Head of the Transfiguration Department when he ascended to the position of Headmaster._ ” He looked at his brother. 

 

“She seems legit.” Then he put his gun down.

 

“Are you serious Dean?!” Sam glared at his brother while keeping his gun trained on the Professor. “We have no idea of what she’s capable of! Look what she did to my laptop and your whiskey bottle? Who knows what she could do to us!”

“I can assure you Mr. Winchester that I am not here to do you any harm. I am here to answer any questions you might have regarding the job and to see if you have accepted.” Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at Sam and sipped the last bit of the tea left in her cup. She then picked up her wand, which she had left on the table where the men could see it, and waved it over the transfigured objects and they went back to their original state.

“Sam, you were all for this yesterday!” Dean snapped but Sam didn't answer. “And over the past couple of years, what _hasn't_ been done to us?” 

 

Sam sighed. “I guess you're right. I'm sorry Ms McGonagall,” he said in the polite tone he used when posing as an FBI agent, or what Dean called the 'lawyer' tone.

“It's very understandable Mr Winchester, and please, you may call me Minerva,” Minerva replied with a smile. “It is my responsibility to go to Muggleborn homes and tell them that they have magical blood and are able to attend Hogwarts.”

“What's a Muggleborn?” Dean asked.

“A Muggleborn is a witch or wizard who is born to non magical, or Muggle parents,” Minerva explained.

_So that's why she called us Muggles,_ Sam thought.

 

“Where is Hogwarts?” Sam asked, having noticed Minerva's British accent.

“Hogwarts is located in Scotland and has been there for over 1000 years,” Minerva answered. Dean and Sam nodded.

“What was the Houses thing about?” Sam asked again. Dean shot his brother a smirk. Typical college boy. He was such a nerd.

 

“There are four Houses of Hogwarts, named after the four founders, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw. The students are Sorted into Houses base on their personalities and traits in their first year at the start of term feast. Gryffindors are brave and daring, Hufflepuffs are chosen by their hard working and loyal nature, Slytherins for their cunning and hunger for power and Ravenclaws are Sorted into their House because of their clever minds,” Minerva explained. The two brothers took a moment to absorb this new information. Dean looked at Sam. _I know where he belongs,_ he thought with a smirk. 

 

Minerva watched the brothers' exchange with an air of amusement. Dean Winchester looked like he had the personality of the Weasley twins. He seemed mischievous, yet focused, protective of his family. Sam on the other hand looked eager to learn, but yet was also focused on the task at hand. 

 

“What will we be doing when we start teaching?” Sam asked.

“Teaching Sam, duh,” Dean said rolling his eyes.

“Shut up, I mean what exactly will we be teaching about?” Sam continued.

 

“We asked in the letter for you to teach our students about fighting demons and other supernatural creatures because we fear that You-Know-Who may involve them in his quest for power and to help kill Harry Potter.” Dean and Sam nodded again.

 

“Okay, but who is Harry and You-Know-Who?” Sam asked.

“Harry Potter is legendary in our world. When he was a year old, You-Know-Who turned up at his house and murdered his parents and tried to kill him. He then tried to kill Harry, but couldn't. He was thought to be destroyed that night, but two years ago, when Harry was fourteen, he came back in front of Harry after killing one of our Hufflepuff students. The Ministry of Magic simply refused to believe that he had returned. It was only after he turned up in the Ministry one day last June to kill Harry that they finally started to believe him. You-Know-Who is the name we have given to Voldemort, because most of the wizarding population are terrified to even speak his name,” Minerva told the brothers.

 

“Poor kid,” Sam said sadly. Dean nodded.

“So we have to train these kids like our Dad trained us?” the elder Winchester asked. “God help them.”

“Well we wish you to do practical lessons where training will be involved, but also having classes in teaching them about the creatures you encountered in your lives,” Minerva told them.

“We'll do it,” Dean said and Sam nodded in agreement.

“Wait Minerva, why did you change from a cat when you got here?” Sam asked. Minerva smiled.

“Oh yes. I am an Animagus, which means I can turn into an animal at will.”

Dean and Sam nodded.

“Thank you. I will return return in a few days to bring you to London where we can get your supplies for the year. The term begins on September first and I will give you more information about that when I see you again. Goodbye,” Minerva smiled.

“Bye,” the Winchesters said and Minerva disappeared with a crack.


	3. Walls, Portkeys and Alleys

**Chapter 3**

 

Dean and Sam watched as the witch disappeared. 

“That was a lot to take in,” Sam said.

“And that's saying something, coming from you,” Dean grinned. Sam gave Dean his trademark bitch face and Dean laughed in response.

“What do you think of all this?” Sam asked. Dean frowned.

“I think it's crappy for them especially that Harry kid. Lost both his parents in one night. I thought our lives sucked,” he commented.

“Yeah true,” Sam agreed. He ran a hand over his forehead.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah I'm fine,” Sam answered. His head throbbed as he looked up to his brother's hazel green eyes.

The stitches in his forehead weren't helping anything. Dean watched his brother with focused eyes. He had told Sam to be careful and don't scratch the wall. The wall that Death himself had put up in his mind to hold back his little brother's memories of Lucifer's Cage. Even Cas hadn't been sure that Sam would wake from his coma like state after Death had restored his soul. All Dean could do was sit at Sam's side and hope for him to wake. He remembered his argument with Cas that day about Dean's part in restoring Sam's soul.

 _  
“I'm sorry, Dean, but I warned you not to put that thing back inside him.”_ Cas had said. __  
“What was I supposed to do? Let T-1000 walk around, hope he doesn't open fire?”  
“Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it. Like it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright.”

Castiel's words echoed in Dean's head. 

“Can I get you anything?” Dean asked

“What are you now, my waitress?” Sam snorted. Dean glared at him.

“I'm just trying to make you feel better. Don't be a bitch,” he snapped.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Sam repeated with a shrug. The throbbing in his head became worse.

“Yeah, you look fine.” Dean noted, nodding towards him, looking at his pale face. “ All I'm saying is everything's gonna be okay.”

“I know. Thanks De--” There was a sudden dull thud as Sam dropped to the floor. 

“Sammy? Sammy?!” Dean was up at once, hurtling towards his brother. Sam was convulsing, _No!_ Dean thought desperately. No! He was fine a minute ago! Now, Sam was convulsing harder, mouth wide in a silent scream His eyes begged for mercy and a release from the pain he was enduring. Dean held his brother as still as he could. He cringed against the carpeted ground.

“Sammy, talk to me!” Dean begged. _No please. Sammy please be okay. I just got you back little brother._ Dean's throat closed as he begged his brother not to leave him. Sam however was trapped. His surroundings were nothing but fire, igniting him and burning him alive. His face contorted and in his mind he screamed in pain. Lucifer's voice drifting through his mind. _You're staying here now Sammy._ Sam felt his body grow limp as his eyes slipped shut and he gave in to the darkness.

Dean's blood ran cold as he saw his brother's convulsions stop, but then he went completely limp, lifeless it seemed. _No Sammy, please._ Dean shook his brother desperately, tears clouding his eyes.

“Sam? Sam. S-sam?” he stuttered. “Oh, come on.” He shook Sam more forcefully. 

“Sammy! Come on, come on. Come on, damn it,” he begged. One of his hands rested on Sam's forehead. The lifted his other shaking hand and rested it against his brother's neck, praying for a pulse. He felt the rapid thumping underneath his fingertips. Sam was alive, but he wasn't breathing. _Sammy.._

Sam's eyes shot open. He inhaled sharply, gulping in the air he desperately needed.

“Hey, hey, hey, you with me?” Dean said softly, relieved to see his brother awake. Sam groaned loudly. Dean hauled Sam from the floor. 

“Come on. Come on,” Dean soothed gently. Sam grunted.

***

It was a few hours later, and he and Dean were sitting at the table. A cup of coffee was between Sam's fingers, enjoying the warmth the cup gave him. His head was still throbbing, and he felt weak, like he had gone 10 rounds with Muhammed Ali. 

Sam groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How d'you feel?” Dean asked, tensing a little.

“Like I got hit by a...planet,” Sam answered and raised the coffee cup to his lips and took a sip. The warmth combined with the bitter taste of caffeine calmed his nerves slightly and relaxed. Dean took a drink from his own coffee.

“Well, lucky for you, I'm a doctor. I got this,” Dean held up a container of pills. He put them on the table.

“What are they?” Sam asked.

“Effective,” Dean answered simply.

“I'm okay. Thanks,” Sam said pushing the plastic bottle of pills away.

“Suit yourself,” Dean sighed.

“How long was I out?” Sam asked.

“About two or three minutes.” _Two or three minutes too long._ “Why, what'd it feel like to you?”

“About a week, give or take,” Sam frowned.

“You want to talk about it?” Dean asked. He knew he was going into a chick-flick moment, but he didn't give a damn.

“It?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, whatever that was. I mean, it was like you were freakin' electrocuted,” Dean said, and flinched slightly.

“Look, I mean, it wasn't fun, but I-I'm...Fine,” Sam replied but Dean scowled.

“Fine. It was Hell, wasn't it? You got a big, fat face full of hell. Ever cross your mind that you could've died?” he snapped. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm serious,” Dean pressed on. “And none of this "it's just a flesh wound" crap. 'cause we did it your way. We let you go explore, and every bad thing that I said would happen happened. So guess what -- Past stays past. We're not kicking that wall again.”

“So I'm supposed to just ignore it?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Sam sighed.

“I don't see how I'm just supposed to ignore it,” he said and Dean flashed him a weak grin.

“Beer helps,” he said and Sam laughed a little. A sudden knock on the door reached their ears. Dean got up and opened it to reveal a man of late fifties, with greying brown hair and moustache, green eyes and had a sturdy build. He smiled.

“Hey boys,” he said and Dean grinned.

“Hey Bobby,” he answered and hugged him. Sam came up behind Dean and hugged Bobby. 

“So what's with the visit?” Dean smiled.

“What, I cant just visit?” Bobby said rolling his eyes. “How are you Sam?”

“Fine,” Sam replied. Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eye but Sam ignored it. 

“What happened?” Bobby demanded. He wasn't stupid. There was something going on and he wanted to know what. 

“Sam's wall.. it cracked a little. He got a glimpse of hell this morning,” Dean explained.

"Why didn't you call me ya idgits?!” Bobby snapped.

"We didn't get much of a chance. Sam had a freaking seizure and wasn't up to anything," Dean frowned .Bobby took a deep breath. 

“The wall cracked. I thought Death told you not to scratch Sam.”

“You think I don't know about that?” Sam sighed. Bobby nodded silently. He looked to the table to see a bottle of whiskey. He stood and walked towards the cabinet and got out three whiskey glasses. As he poured the amber coloured liquid into the glasses, he noticed a letter on the table.

“What's that about?” Bobby asked.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, wondering who would be the first to speak. After a silent minute long stand-off, Dean finally sighed and told Bobby the story.  
“Are you two stupid or somethin’?” Bobby didn’t look up from his glass. “Crowley is close to breaking the code to getting purgatory cracked open and you're going off to play wizards? It’s out of the question.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Bobby, I think we are old enough to make our own decisions without consulting you.” Dean snapped.

“Yeah I'm sure ya idgit. I just want to make sure you don't get your guts ripped out at twenty seven and thirty one!” Bobby scowled.

“Like that hasn't happened before,” Dean muttered under his breath Bobby glared at him.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Look, I wasn’t too jazzed about this either, but we’ve already consulted with Cas and this Professor McGonagall.” 

“You called Cas?” Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow. “How the hell would he help anything?”

“Well Cas has been watching over the planet for thousands of years right?” Dean pointed out. Bobby nodded  
“And this ‘McGonagall’ person?” Bobby retorted.  
“She seems to be fine.” Sam leaned up against the door frame. “Her credentials are credible.” He tossed Bobby the hexagon shaped card.   
“What is this?” Bobby flipped over the card.   
“It’s the card that she gave us when she showed up.” Dean replied.  
“You mean she got past all of the traps that you set?” Bobby sounded incredulous.   
“Yep, Devil's Traps, salt, _Christo,_ she just popped in and turned that whiskey into tea.”

“That don't make a lick of sense. Why would a witch need you to fight a wizarding war anyway?” Bobby said incredulously. 

“They want us to be teachers, to help them because this Dark Wizard might recruit the supernatural,” Sam answered.

"You're positive this is legit?" Bobby pressed. 

"Yeah we're sure Bobby," Sam replied, his head throbbing. 

"As long as you're sure. I need to go and see if there's anything new about this Purgatory crap," Bobby muttered. "I'll see you," he said, hugging both Winchesters. 

"See ya Bobby. We'll call," Dean answered. 

"Ya better!" they heard Bobby call back as the door closed. "Idgits." Sam and Dean shared a grin.

***

Three days passed and the 12th of August at 7am rolled around. Sam and Dean were still sleeping, Dean on his stomach on top of the covers, mouth slightly open. Dean's face twitched slightly in his sleep. The nightmare was in full force.

_Sam was on the table in Bobby's panic room. His eyes were wide, glazed with fear. He convulsed wildly, and Dean knew his wall was gone, crumbled. Castiel was at the door, unable to come in because of the Enochian signs covering the curved walls._

“ _I told you this would happen Dean,” he said and he glared at him._

“ _Shut it Cas! He'll be fine. He's always fine,” but as he spoke, Sam's eyes rolled back in his head and he grew still._

Dean's eyes shot open and his breath hitched.  
“You okay?” he heard Sam, who had woken during his nightmare, ask.

“Yeah I'm fine,” Dean replied, getting up out of bed and going to the counter.

“Want a coffee?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sam said. Dean made the coffee.

“Here Jolly Green Giant,” he grinned. Sam scowled at him. They sat, drinking their coffees and munching some cereal, Lucky Charms, a childhood favourite of theirs. The drab beige walls dampened their moods.

“I hate these shitty motels,” Dean grumbled as a loud crack sounded in the room. Dean turned around rapidly to see Minerva standing there.

“You have got to stop doing that,” Dean said.

“My apologies,” Minerva replied. “Good morning.”

“Good morning Minnie,” Dean smirked. Minerva raised an eyebrow. Dean wisely decided to shut up.

“So you're here to bring us to get the stuff we need for school?” Sam asked. Minerva nodded.

“Yes I am. There will be a number of things we need to buy for your school year including quills, parchment, books and other things. But firstly, we must go to your vault in Gringotts bank to collect your money,” Minerva explained.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“We have put your first months wages and yearly budget in a vault in Gringotts for you,” Minerva told them.

“Thanks,” Sam smiled.

“Our pleasure,” Minerva replied. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at an old sock. 

“ _Portus,_ ” she said simply and the sock glowed blue.

“What the hell was that?” Dean exclaimed.

“That was a Portkey. It will bring you to London, where we must go to get our supplies. Portkeys are usually made from ordinary things that people would think if rubbish.”

“Oh right,” Sam said.

 _Rubbish, I guess I'm gonna have to get used to the English slang,_ Dean thought with a smirk.

“Yes, I need you both to put a finger on it,” Minerva said and the brothers, after exchanging a look and raised eyebrows, touched it. It happened immediately. They felt as though a hook just behind their navels had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Their feet left the ground. They were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour. The brothers forefingers were stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then. The three pairs of feet slammed into the ground. Minerva righted herself calmly as Sam and Dean landed on their behinds. Dean had a greenish tinge to his skin.

“I'm gonna be sick,” Dean muttered.

“Head between your knees,” Sam advised.

“Shuddup.” Dean muttered as he took deep breaths. “I am so not doing that again.” Minerva gave him a rare smile.

“Yes, it can be quite nauseating the first time. When you're ready we must get going.”

“Where are we?” Sam groaned.

“An alley in London. We will have to finish our journey on foot,” Minerva informed. Dean snorted. _She sounds like we're searching for the freakin' holy grail or something._

Minerva led them out of a small alleyway and down a crowded street. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas.

"This is it," said Minerva, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It is a famous place."It was a tiny, grubby-looking bar. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. 

“Can they see it?” Sam asked.

“No, Muggles normally cannot see it, but there have of course been exceptions made,” Minerva explained.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Minerva; they nodded politely at her, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "Hello Professor." 

“Hello Tom,” Minerva greeted. “I'd like you to meet Sam and Dean Winchester. They will be teaching at Hogwarts this year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tom nodded. Sam shifted uncomfortably as he noticed the eyes on him and his brother.

“You too,” Dean answered.

“We have a room for you here until term starts,” Minerva explained, handing them a key. “Come on, we need to go to Gringotts.” Sam and Dean nodded, not oblivious to the stares they were getting from the witches and wizards. Minerva led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds. 

“Why were they all staring at us?” Sam muttered.

“It is highly unusual for a Muggle to know about our world, unless they have a magical relative. This is an entirely new thing, Muggles teaching at Hogwarts,” Minerva explained.

“Awesome,” Dean muttered with a scowl. Minerva was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Stand back," she advised. Sam and Dean did as she said, exchanging a glance. She tapped the wall three times with the point of her wand.The brick wriggled and in the middle, a small hole appeared. It grew wider and wider and a second later they were facing an archway that led onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," said Minerva.

  
  



	4. The Meeting and the Article

**Chapter 4**

**The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, England, 10 th August**

Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore approached the back door of the Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons. Dumbledore knocked three times and Harry saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window. Harry's mind was still reeling from today's events. Meeting Slughorn had been strange.

"Who's there?" said a nervous voice he recognized as Mrs. Weasley's.

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry." The door opened at once. There stood Mrs. Weasley, wearing an old green dressing gown. She was slightly plump, with shoulder length red hair with kind features that lit up.

"Harry, dear! Merlin, Albus, you gave me a fright." 

"Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's doing, of course,” Dumbledore said as they walked inside.

 

“Harry, give me your bags, go and sit by the fire. You must be freezing. Albus would you like some tea?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine,” Harry answered as he carried his trunk and owl cage in and put them on the tale. Hedwig hooted happily from inside the cage.

“Are you sure dear? How about some soup?” Mrs. Weasley replied with a smile.

“That would be great Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said gratefully. “Thanks.”

“No bother at all,” Mrs. Weasley smiled back.

 

"You're like Ron," she sighed, looking him up and down. "Both of you look as though you've had Stretching jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last bought him school robes.”

As Harry sat down, a furry ginger cat with a squashed face lumped onto his knees and settled there, purring.

 

"So Hermione's here?" he asked happily as he tickled Crookshanks behind the ears.

"Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday," said Mrs. Weasley, rapping a large iron pot with her wand. It began to bubble immediately. The smell of onion soup wafted towards Harry's nostrils and he smiled.

Mrs. Weasley handed Harry a bowl of soup with a few slices of brown bread.

“Thanks Mrs. Weasley,” Harry smiled.

“Harry?” a voice called and Harry saw a tall, freckled, red headed figure come down the stairs. “Hey mate!”

“ Hey Ron,” Harry said, but was cut off by a shout of “Harry!” and a blur of brown as he felt Hermione's arms encircle his shoulders. 

 

“How have you been? We've been looking forward to seeing you for ages!” she said rapidly. Dumbledore chuckled. 

“Molly I know it is late, but I need to call an Order meeting. I would ask that the children are allowed to attend,” Dumbledore said.

 

“Albus, the Order meetings have-” Mrs Weasley began but Albus held up a hand.

“Please Molly,” Dumbledore began. “It concerns the new teachers I have arranged for this year.”

“Slughorn? But we already know,” Molly said in a confused tone.

“I will call the meeting and it will be revealed,” Dumbledore said calmly and raised his wand with his uninjured hand.

 

***

 

It took around ten minutes for the members of the Order of the Phoenix to arrive. Soon, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Lupin, Bill, Fleur, Fred, George, Kingsley, Minerva, Severus Hiesta Jones, Mad Eye Moody and Mundungus, along with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting around the table and waiting for Dumbledore to speak.

 

“It has come to my attention that we have some new business to attend to.” Dumbledore directed his attention to Minerva. She sat her tea cup down and addressed them. 

“Under the instruction of Albus I have paid a visit to the United States of America.”  
“The United States?” Hermione questioned.   
“What were you doing there Professor?” Harry wondered what she would be doing in that side of the world. It was certainly not for a pleasure trip that’s for sure.   
“I was meeting our newest staff members.”

“New professors?” Ron groaned. “And that means another subject that I’ll probably fail.”   
“Be quiet Ron.” Hermione hissed. “What subjects will these new professors teach?”  
“Demonology.” Minerva sipped her tea as the other’s processed this.   
“As in the study of demons?” Molly asked in a concerned tone. 

“Yes Molly, I’m afraid so.” Dumbledore answered her. “With Voldemort,” -everyone but Dumbledore and Harry shuddered at the name- “gaining new members into his ranks, the possibility that of the demonic variety is great. I thought that it would be to our advantage to have two skilled demon hunters on our side to instruct our students on the proper way to dispose of these creatures.”  
They all sat in silence and absorbed everything that Dumbledore had said.

 

“So will these new professors be teaching us spells and counter curses?” Ginny wondered.  
“Well, not exactly miss Weasley.” Professor McGonagall tried to find the right words to use. “You see these new professors were not brought up in a magical learning environment.

“So they are Muggleborns like me?” Hermione guessed.  
“Well, not really they are-”  
“They are Muggles.” Dumbledore revealed. “Average Muggles.”  
“Muggles? How fascinating!” Mr. Weasley was astounded.

“But Professor, there hasn’t been a single Muggle teacher at Hogwarts since… well… since forever!” Hermione exclaimed.  
“Which is precisely why I am bringing them in Miss Granger.” Dumbledore told them. “I have observed these young men most of their lives and I can think of no one better to instruct this new class.” 

 

“So you think they can teach us to fight?” Harry asked.

“Yes I believe they do,” Dumbledore replied. “I was originally going to ask their father to come too but I discovered that their father had been passed away as of around four years ago,” he finished sadly.

“Their mother must be devastated,” Mrs Weasley said sadly.

“Their mother was murdered by a demon when the younger brother Sam was just six months old and Dean was four years of age.”

“Oh, those poor dears,” Mrs Weasley gasped.

 

“Yes, their lives have been difficult, but after their mother died, their father John Winchester raised his sons to fight demons and other supernatural creatures,” Minerva explained.

“He raised them to fight? Is he mad?” Ron exclaimed.

“Some may say that, but John Winchester raised his sons in that life to protect themselves,” Dumbledore said simply. “Were they difficult Minerva?”

“They were as to be expected. As you said, they have been through a lot and they acted as I anticipated.” Minerva said curtly, remembering the guns being pointed at her. 

“But Muggles at Hogwarts? The _Daily Prophet_ will have a field day,” Bill muttered.

“I am not concerned about what the Daily Prophet has or will print. I think they may have printed a story already,” Dumbledore said _._ He turned to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

 

“I need you to support the professors this year. There will be a lot going against them. Surely the Slytherins will have something to say about this, but John Winchester was the best hunter America has ever seen, and his sons have been trained to be the current best,” Dumbledore said.

“We'll do that sir,” Harry replied and his friends nodded.

“Headmaster, if I may say a few words.” The one person who had not spoken took this opportunity to speak.  


“Of course Severus, this is an open discussion.” Dumbledore smiled warmly. “If you have something to add, please do,” Dumbledore replied.

“I just think it would be more beneficial to the students if we would hire someone…. Well someone who has more experience.” Snape said using his most superior tone. “I mean if you can’t have this John Winchester fellow that you wanted in the first place -need we address the issue again that he couldn’t even save his own wife- why would you choose his son’s that don’t

have as much experience.” 

 

Harry’s nails were digging deep into the palm of his hands by the time his least favourite teacher got finished speaking. He was going to say something but Hermione put a firm hand on his shoulder and he held his tongue. 

 

“Severus, my old friend, I wouldn’t dream of offering this job to anyone else. Though they are a little rough around the edges, but as I recall, there was another situation similar to this that turned out fine.” Dumbledore reminded him. No one wanted to look, but everyone knew he was talking about Professor Lupin’s short term that Snape had spoken out against. But against Snape’s wishes, Lupin was still hired and, in Harry’s opinion, taught more about Defence Against the Dark Arts than any of the other teachers combined. Snape glared at Lupin.

 

“Also, there was no way John could have saved his wife. From what I have discovered, they put Sam and Dean to bed and during the night Mary woke and checked on Sam. She saw someone leaning over Sam's crib and thought it was John. She went downstairs and found John asleep in a chair in the living room. She ran back upstairs to her sons room and screamed. John woke and by the time he had gotten to the nursery, Mary was on the ceiling with her stomach cut open. The ceiling burst into flames and Dean came in. He saw Mary and John gave Sam to him and told him to get out. Dean obeyed his father but unfortunately, he was not able to save her,” Dumbledore explained.

 

“He was asleep downstairs. He should have been with her, but instead he was lazy,” Snape sneered. Everyone glared at him. Harry remembered Snape's words from the previous year. _Lazy, arrogant._

“And just because their father was ‘lazy’ means that they are just as bad?” Harry challenged him. “You don’t even know them! Their mother was killed when they were children, regardless of who’s fault it is you-”

 _  
“_ That is enough Harry.” Dumbledore put his hand up to stop any more protests from him. “There is only one person who is to blame for Mary Winchester’s death, and that is the only reason that the Winchester men became hunters. Which gives them the passion that they need to teach this course with fire. _”_ Snape scowled, defeated. 

Harry sat back and frowned. How dare Snape make fun of someone for what a demon did to them? The family had their lives torn to shreds and his Potions Master was criticising and insulting them for it? He knew all about what it was like, growing up without a parent. He grew up without both. They had grown up with one, but John could have died at any point in their lives that would have left them alone. He felt a rush of sympathy for the Muggle brothers who had been treated so wrongly by fate, but shook off the sympathy. He knew that they would not want it. People didn't need sympathy, well he didn't anyway. He was sure that how these men grew up, they would not like it either.

  
“Those poor men,” Mrs Weasley fretted again. “They have lost so much.”

“Minerva, how are their preparations going?” Dumbledore turned to the professor.  
“I will be going to collect them within the next few days, and I will be taking them directly to Diagon Alley to get them prepared for the start of term.”

  
“Excellent. Everything is proceeding according to plan.” Dumbledore smiled and pulled out a package of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and popped one in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Hum…. Vomit, I haven’t had one of those in a while…. Would anyone else like to try their luck?”

 

Everyone present tried not to vomit themselves. Mrs Weasley however recovered enough to speak.  
“I wouldn’t spoil your dinner with all those sweets Professor Dumbledore!” She gave a short little awkward laugh. 

  
Everyone else joined in the laughter and concluded the meeting, shortly after they were filling into the kitchen to get something to eat. 

“You will have to excuse me,” Snape sighed in a bored tone. “I have a prior engagement that I have to be off too.” And with that, he was out the door in a flash.  
“Me as well Molly.” Kingsley truly looked sad to miss out on Molly’s cooking. “The Minister starts getting suspicious if I’m gone for too long.” 

 

“Of course Kingsley!” Mrs Weasley pulled out her wand and waved it. “I fixed this especially for you!” She smiled as a covered dish wrapped in what looked like a picnic blanket flew through the air and landed in Kingsley’s awaiting hands.  
“Oh, Molly, you spoil me too much!” Kingsley laughed and went through the door with the biggest smile on his face. 

 

Everyone ate in silence, mulling over what had been said. After everyone finished and dinner was cleaned up, Molly put her hands on her hips.

“Right! Off to bed now! Harry you'll be sharing with Ron,” Mrs Weasley smiled.

“Night everyone,” the teens replied and went upstairs. Harry followed Ron to his room and got into bed.

“What do you think Harry? Muggles at Hogwarts..” Ron trailed of in bewilderment.

“I think its a good idea. I mean the last person they would expect Dumbledore to hire would be a Muggle hunter,” Harry replied.

“Suppose,” Ron shrugged.

 

“What do you think about it Ron?” Harry asked after a few moments of silence.  
“About the new class? I think Dumbledore has lost his bloody mind.” Ron replied. “But he’s done something like this before and everything has worked out okay, so I guess it will work out this time.” 

  
“Yea…” Harry looked out the window. “I wonder what they are like.”

“Well, you are the Muggle expert.” Ron said then paused. “Don’t tell Hermione I said that. You know all about them since you’ve lived with them for so long.”  
“Yea, but the United States of America is a different place then London.” Harry remembered the one time that the Dursleys had ‘rewarded’ him by letting him watch television with them, from the kitchen.   
_The news anchor was reporting about a story in the United States that had gotten national attention.  
“… and sources say that the man is still at large and the streets are no longer safe.” The news anchor spoke._

“ _That’s the problem with those Americans.” Vernon Dursley said the word ‘Americans’ like it was a curse. “Fires, shootings earthquakes, they should never have split from England in the first place.”_  
“Yes, I’m so glad that we live here!” Petunia sniffed. “I would shudder to think what would happen to my Dudders if we sent him there!” she tried to pinch her son’s cheeks.  
“Shove off Mum!” Dudley slapped her hands away. 

 

“Harry, are you alright?” Ron pulled Harry from his memory.  
“Sorry mate. I was thinking about something.” Harry apologized. He would never forget the sadness he felt for the people he saw on the news, people who were dead from one thing or another. He wondered how many of those would have been related to demons or some sort. 

“Well I think it’s a good thing to know more about demons. I mean with all the cruel things Voldemort has done, who knows what he could throw at us next?”

 

“Mate don't say the name!” Ron shook the floors with his shivering.  
“Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself.” Harry smirked as he quoted Hermione.   
“Shut up.” Ron rolled over and left Harry to his thoughts.

“You're right though,” Ron said after a few seconds. “Dumbledore's right. If You-Know-Who is rounding up demons and Merlin knows what else, it'd be best if we knew.”

“Yeah it might help _slightly,_ ” Harry smirked, with an air of sarcasm.

“Shut it!” Ron snapped.  
“Hey,” Harry said. “I managed to grab the Daily Prophet.”

“So?” Ron rolled his eyes. “What would you want to read that for?”

“It has an article about the Winchesters. I don't know how it got out,” Harry said as he turned the light on. They looked at the article. The headline read _MUGGLES AT HOGWARTS?_

“ _Sources from Hogwarts say that there will be a new mandatory subject being taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this fall,_ ” Harry read aloud. “‘ _Has Dumbledore finally lost his mind?’ a concerned parent who wishes to remain anonymous was quoted._ ”  
“Probably that git Malfoy if I had to guess.” Ron commented. 

“ _The class is not only teaching our children about demons but is taught by two Muggle ‘hunters’. Dean Winchester along with his younger brother Samuel (pictured above) have a most outstanding record of avoiding the Muggle police forces and for the deaths of many at their own hands. Should we really be subjecting our children to this kind of teaching style?_ ”

  
Harry showed Ron the photos that the newspaper used, conveniently enough it was a moving picture from one of the brother’s infamous mug shots.

“Nice, being taught by convicted felons.” Ron smirked. “Mum will love that.”  
“That’s what we have to prevent from happening.” Harry remarked. “There’s more to the article.” He handed Ron the paper.

 _  
“Our reporters spoke with Tom, the keeper of the Leaky Cauldron in London inquiring about the Winchester brother’s appearance at Diagon Alley. ‘Yea, I saw ‘em.’ Tom recalled. ‘Big brawny brutes they was. Had Muggle weapons and was askin’ if they had the right place. Sketchy fellows if you ask me.’_ ”

  
  


“Well that’s a load of rubbish.” Harry commented. “This is defiantly fake. Professor McGonagall said that they haven’t been to Diagon Alley yet.”  
“And besides, Old Tom is a few needles short of a haystack.” Ron agreed. He continued reading. 

  
  


“ _There are talks in the way for removing these vicious killers and to keep our children safe. We asked Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore for a comment but didn’t hear back from him in time to add his thoughts in this article. Stay tuned for more information in the days and weeks to come.”_

  
  


“What do you think about the article?” Harry asked.  
“I’m with you mate. This is a bunch of rubbish. But it’s just enough junk in here to make even Mum and Dad wary of them.”

“I don't think they'd believe it,” Harry disagreed. “Especially after hearing everything today. There must be a reason behind this. They're hunters. Maybe the people who had died were possessed by demons,” Harry suggested.

### “Yeah maybe,” Ron replied. “Let's get to sleep. I hear that the letters are due to arrive any day. They're really late this year.”

### “They would probably have to be, with the new professors. We probably need things for that class. Night.”

### But Ron was already snoring. 


	5. Some Scars Never Heal

**Chapter 5**

**The Leaky Cauldron, London, England, August 12 th**

Dean’s first impression of Diagon Alley was it was like an acid trip and Halloween was 24/7 for these people. Sam’s first impression was wondering if they had enough time to scour the bookshops. Minerva noticed their looks.

“We will have plenty of time left to shop after you’ve collected your money.”

“But we have money.” Sam told her.

“Exchange rate Sam?” Dean snorted.  
  


“Your Muggle money is worthless paper here in the wizarding world.” She informed them. “There has been a temporary trust set up in your name at Gringotts. We have to go claim it before you can go shopping.” Dean looked at his brother. 

“Well I guess I just wasted an hour gambling to get some extra cash…”

  
“Excuse me Mr. Winchester?” Professor McGonagall turned to look at him. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Dean exclaimed  
She rolled her eyes and told them to keep up.

  
“I swear man, it’s like she stares into your soul with those eyes.” Dean muttered to Sam. “Are you sure she’s not a demon?” 

Sam smirked and then looked forward again to find that Professor McGonagall was missing.  
“Where’d she go?”  
“I’m far from that Dean Winchester.” She suddenly Apparated directly behind them. “But I can turn into something far worse if you two don’t get a move on!”  
“Yes Ma’am!” Both brothers said as they were rushed down the street.

 

The Winchesters turned their heads in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying _Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown and Snowy._

Several boys of about eleven years of age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. 

“Look,' the brothers heard one of them say, 'the new Firebolt, the fastest ever -”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Broomsticks?” he mumbled. “I am _so_ trying one of them!” Sam laughed. 

Minerva smiled.

There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments the Winchester brothers had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon.

They had reached a snowy-white building which towered over the other little shops.  
“This is Gringotts Wizarding Bank,” Minerva explained. Sam and Dean looked up.

“Cool,” Sam muttered.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. 

“What are they?” Dean asked.

“They are goblins. They run the bank,” Minerva replied.

About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses.

“Good morning,' Minerva said to a free goblin. 'We have come to take some money out of the Winchester's Hogwarts safe.'

“You have their key, miss?”

“Yes,” Minerva replied, handing the goblin a small key.

“Very well,' he said, handing it back to Minerva, “I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Gornuk!”

Gornuk was yet another goblin. He led Sam, Dean and Minerva down  towards one of the doors leading off the hall.Gornuk held open the door for them. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downwards and there were little railway tracks on the floor. A small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. They climbed in.

“Cool,” Dean muttered.

They plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor. 

The cart stopped beside a small door in the passage wall.

Gornuk unlocked the door.

Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts. Sam and Dean's eyes widened.

“Woah,” Dean breathed. “We're in the money now Sammy!”

Sam's eyes were still wide. He turned to Minerva. 

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. Minerva smiled in return.

“Our pleasure, help yourselves to what you will need for your term,” she said and Sam and Dean began gathering coins and placing them in the small bags that Minerva had given them.

Around ten minutes later, Sam, Minerva and Dean walked out of Gringotts and walked down the street.

“If you don’t mind Professor, could you please explain to us again about these coins?” Sam asked as they were walking back to the shops.  
She sighed. “The large gold pieces are called Galleon’s the silver pieces are Sickles and the small bronze pieces are Knuts.”

  
“You sure have weird names for your money sister.” Dean pulled out the three coins she described.

“Now they all have different value. There are 17 Sickles in a Galleon, and 29 Knuts in a Sickle.”  
“So there’s 493 Knuts to a galleon?” Sam guessed after a second. Dean started coughing and mentioned the word ‘nerd’. 

  
“That’s correct Mr. Winchester. And don’t get any ideas of trying to duplicate it.” She looked at Dean mostly. “Duplicates are worthless.” She walked into a shop expecting them to follow her.

“Why did she look at me?” Dean asked. Sam didn’t say anything; he just looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

“What? I may be a thief and a gambler but I have never been accused of counterfeiting! Have you no shame!” He stood up tall and strutted into a shop called Flourish and Blotts with Sam chuckling behind him.

“Sam, I must go and sort out some things at Hogwarts,” Minerva said. “ I shall see you soon. There will be Aurors, which are Dark Wizards catchers to accompany you to King's cross train station on September first.”

“Why do we need Aurors?” Sam asked.

“It is for your protection, as many people would not approve of Muggles teaching at Hogwarts,” Minerva replied.

“Great,” Sam muttered as Minerva disappeared. Now they were being brought around like children. Sam and Dean walked inside the shop and Sam's eyes went wide while Dean groaned. Shelves upon shelves were piled together with books. The shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.

“Hey Sammy, look at this,” Dean said, picking up a large book that read _Curses: Get Revenge on Enemies._ “Think it would work on Crowley or Meg?” he grinned. Sam smirked and shrugged. Sam looked around and found the _Defence_ section. 

“Dean do you think that would be useful?” Sam said, holding a large leather book. It read _Supernatural Beasts and Defence._

“Yeah it would,” Dean replied. “We really should have called Bobby and asked for copies of his books.”

 

“We know it all anyway, but some book backup couldn't hurt,” Sam replied.

“True,” Dean replied. “Okay, so this is gonna be the book the students are getting?” he asked. Sam nodded as he looked through it. 

“Yeah it has good explanations,” Sam said as he went up to the counter and paid the two Galleons for it. They walked outside and Dean looked across the alley to see a shop they had passed by, Quality Quidditch Supplies.

“Dude, let’s go in there!” Dean pointed to the shop.  
“Quality Quiditch Supplies” Sam read aloud. “Dean, we don’t have time to goof off!”  
“Come on man, we just came through a magical portal through a grubby tavern into a freakin’ magical outdoor mall with a wad of cash just burning in our pockets.” Dean grabbed his brother’s jacket and pulled him close. “We’re goin’ in.” Sam sighed as he followed Dean in.

  
Sam actually enjoyed himself, despite of not wanting to go inside. He found a book on the history of Quidditch called “Quidditch Through the Ages” and was thumbing through it while Dean was drooling over the broomsticks. 

 

  
  


“What about this one?” Dean asked the shopkeeper.  
“Ah, very good choice sir!” The young witch smiled. “The Firebolt is a world-class broomstick. It’s was the fastest at the time of its production and was released in 1993. It’s used by the Bulgarian and Irish International Quidditch Teams during the 1994 Quidditch World Cup.”  
“Wow…” Dean pressed his nose up against the glass display case. “That’s so amazing! How much?”  
“700 Galleons.”

 

 

  
  


Dean looked at her dumbfounded. “Seriously? You guys charge that much for a household cleaning device?” then he got an idea. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t give me the friends and family discount?”  
“Well that wouldn’t really work out because I don’t know you right?”  
Dean leaned up against the display case and put on his best flirty face. “Would you like to get to know me?”  
She looked at him questioningly. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”  
“Why don’t you give me your number and we can set up a date later.”  
Realization dawned on her “I’m sorry to disappoint you but I already have someone.” The girl smirked. “And there’s no leaning on the display case.” She turned to help another guest.

 

 

  
  


Sam laughed. “Smooth, and you say I’m bad with girls.”  
“Shut up Bitch.” Dean muttered as they walked out of the store.  
“Jerk.”

 

  
  


“What’s the next thing we have to do on the Wicked Witch's list?” Dean asked.  
“I would watch what you say about her.” Sam warned him. “Remember what she did to your whiskey bottle? Who knows what she could turn you into...”  
“Whatever man, she doesn’t like me, I don’t like her. That is the extent of our relationship.”  
Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out the list that Professor McGonagall gave him. “The next thing is robe shopping at Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.”

 

  
  


“Robe shopping? Like bath robes? What would we need those for?” Dean asked, then just as they turned the corner they saw the shop in question, in the front window was a periwinkle blue set of robes. “Oh no, no way am I wearing those!”  
“Come on Dean, we have to wear them, it’s school policy.” Sam grunted as he dragged Dean into the shop.  
“Come on man!” Dean complained. “I’m too pretty to wear a _dress!_ ”

 

 

  
  


“Welcome to my shop, can I help you boys?” the short grey haired witch addressed them brightly.  
“Yes ma’am, we were sent here by Professor McGonagall to pick out some robes.” Sam smiled. Dean was trying to make an escape but Sam grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him back to the counter.

 

  
Madam Malkin looked at the two of them trying not to look concerned about their mental state while trying to be professional. “Of course you must be the new teachers at Hogwarts she told me about. Who wants to go first?”

  
  


 

  
  


“Not it!” Sam and Dean said at the same time. But unfortunately Sam was a little quicker.  
“Da-”Dean almost cursed but then realized that Madam Malkin was studying him curiously. “Alright, I’ll go first.” He looked at Sam. “But you owe me big time little brother.”  
“Stop fidgeting Mr. Winchester!” “This will only take a second!” Madam Malkin shouted every few minutes.  
“I hate this dress man!” Dean complained. He walked out of the changing room and looked at himself in the mirror. “Hey, I don’t look so bad in these.” He twirled around and admired himself in the mirror.

 

 

  
  


Sam secretly took out his phone and took a few pictures and then a video. _This is so going on YouTube later,_ he thought  
“Alright Mr. Winchester, take those off, be careful of the pins.” Madam Malkin wiped the sweat of her brow. “I’ll have them hemmed and sent to the school along with a few spare robes to use if these get dirty. I’ll take you next Mr. Winchester.” She pointed to Sam. He put his book back in his knapsack and followed Madam Malkin into the back room.  
Sam came out a few minutes later in a robe identical to Dean's. 

 

“What do you think Dean?”

  
“I think you look ridiculous.” Dean put down _Supernatural Beasts and Defence_ and came over to the mirror. “I, on the other hand, looked smashing in mine!” S 

  
  


am sighed at his brother’s antics as Dean pulled a hand through his hair. Sam noticed something funny about his brother’s arm. 

 

“Hey, what’s that?”  
“It’s nothing.” Dean muttered as he pulled down his robe sleeves.  
Sam grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled up the sleeve. There were long, faded pink slashes down Dean’s wrists. 

“Dude, this is not ‘nothing’. What the hell is this?” Sam demanded. Madam Malkin gasped. “I’m sorry for the language Ma’am.”

 

  
  


“Can we talk about this later?” Dean growled. 

 

“Later? Or never?” Sam muttered darkly.  
“I promise we can talk about it later.” Sam said and looked at Madam Malkin. “Thank you for the robes. They look great.”  
“I… I’ll have yours sent to the school as well Mr. Winchester.” She tried to control the fear on her face.  
“Please, call me Sam.” He tried to salvage her opinion of them by trying to be cordial.

The exited the shop and Dean waited till the colour in Sam’s face returned to normal.   
“Well I guess our reputation as being the first Muggle teachers at Hogwarts has been tarnished…”   
Sam didn’t say anything, or look at Dean. He looked at the list. “The next thing we need is wands. The shop is beside Gringotts, I saw it on the way over there earlier.”

  
“Come on man, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Dean sighed. “I have just been going through a lot lately. It helped me cope.”  
“Cope with what Dean?” Sam stopped and looked at Dean with concern in his eyes. “What is so bad that you couldn’t just tell me about it?” 

“You going to hell,” Dean answered. Sam stopped in his tracks, looking at Dean with wide eyes.

“Look, I swear I only did it the once. I was shaving and I dunno, impulse caught me or something,” Dean explained reluctantly. “Next thing I knew I was waking up with Lisa panicking beside me while pushing a towel to my wrist.”

“Dean you should have freakin' told me!” Sam shouted, causing several people to turn and look.

“Tell you what? That I couldn't cope with you gone? You knew I can't do that Sammy,” Dean admitted angrily. Sam's eyes brimmed with tears.

  
  


“Dean... I know you hate talking about this stuff, but you gotta talk sometime. It could kill you otherwise,” Sam choked out. The realization was still hitting him. _His older brother had attempted suicide._ It was one of the last things he expected from his brother. Dean was the strong one, always there for him. Sam was the tainted one. Dean hadn't been destined to lead a demon army from six months old, hadn't been the one who had powers, was doped up on demon blood half the time and became Lucifer's vessel after freeing him from hell. 

  
  


If anyone deserved to die, he did. His brother deserved everything he wanted. He deserved to have the life with Lisa and Ben that he wanted, maybe have kids of his own with her. He knew better. Even though he understood John Winchester's actions, he was still at fault for this. He had dragged himself along with the two brothers into a nomadic, bloody lifestyle. Still, the knowledge that even for a split second, that Dean had wanted to die, was terrifying.

  
  


Dean sighed. “We can talk about it later Sammy,” he said in a tired tone. Sam huffed in anger. He knew that his brother wouldn't say any more, and if he tried to push Dean, he would most likely end up with a broken nose. The brothers edged their way down the street with bags towards the Leaky Cauldron, passing a group of what looked to be sixteen year olds. There was a boy with very shaggy jet black hair, round black glasses and piercing green eyes standing beside a bushy brown haired girl with brown eyes. The other two beside them were red headed, the girl a little younger looking, and the boy was tall and lanky. They walked inside and up to their room, and Sam kept casting worried glances at his brother, which he ignored.

 _I'm gonna do whatever it takes to help you Dean,_ Sam thought with determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!


	6. Aurors and Platforms

**Chapter 6**

**The Leaky Cauldron, London, England, September 1 st**

Sam lay down in his bed at the Leaky Cauldron thinking about the things that happened over the past couple of days. First it was finding out that there was a whole other world that they never knew about right under their noses, then there was this evil wizard who wanted to destroy all Muggles and preserve magical blood, and then there was his brother, the worst of it all. Not only was Dean not fazed by the existence of wizards, but he had fully integrated into the society within minutes of being in there.

 

And then there was his cutting problem…  
 _How come he never told me?_ Sam wondered to himself. _We are brothers; we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other. Right?_  
Sam sighed. He had kept secrets from Dean, all the time. He'd drank demon blood and hid it from his brother, was hanging around with a demon that eventually betrayed them. He had even kept it from his brother that Azazel had showed him what happened that fateful night in 1983, that his mother had known the demon. Dean... he hadn't taken his eyes off his older brother since the day he had found out, watching him like a hawk, much to Dean's annoyance. Sam was so used to Dean just being... there. He lay awake worrying about Dean, hearing the soft breaths from the other bed that calmed him a little.

  
  


“ _We’ll talk about it later,_ ” he had said. But would later ever come? Sam shook his head. Dean would tell him about it when he was ready. Sam just had to be patient and wait.   
All of their purchases from Diagon Alley were put in trunks to be taken to the train station where they would board the train to go to Hogwarts.

  
  


_I wonder how they conceal a magical castle from the Muggles._ Sam wondered. _I guess there are spells strong enough to conceal something that large._ Sam had to admit, the fact that all this was possible boggled his mind. He hoped that they could stay because there was so much of Diagon Alley that they hadn’t seen. The best thing about their trip had been going to the Owl Emporium, Sam really wanted to get an owl he had always been fascinated by them. But they didn’t have enough money to get one so Sam left, giving a barn owl an affectionate head rub and a longing look.

  
  


He got up and prepared for the day. He sat in the bed and read through more of the textbook while waiting for Dean to wake up from his beauty sleep. It was half past nine; Professor McGonagall said that the Aurors would be there at ten to pick them up. Sam sighed, if they were going to be ready to leave by then he had better wake up sleeping beauty.

“Dean? Wake up man.” Sam said.  
Dean snored a little louder in response.   
“Dean?” Sam got up and shook the bed. “Dean?”  
“Five more minutes dad!” Dean whined. “I’m kanodling with the Olsen twins.” And he smiled a sleepy smile. 

  
Sam pulled out his wand, a little wary of using it, and decided to have a little fun. He and Dean had bought them after their argument about Dean's scars. Sam's wand was elm, dragon heartstring and ten inches while Dean's wand had a core of phoenix feather, made of oak and was twelve inches long. Minerva had told them that they were magically enchanted so they would work for them.

“ _Hey Sam, mine's bigger,”_ Dean had grinned.  
“Hum…” He picked up a book. “ _Hexes and Curses to Entertain Your Friends_ huh?” Sam grinned impishly. “This should be fun.”

  
  


He found a particular nasty one and waved his wand. He frowned; the spell didn’t seem to work. He looked at the page and wondered if he had mispronounced the spell.   
Just then Dean finally decided to wake up. “Hey bro, what are you up to?” He swung his legs off the bed, facing away from Sam, and stretched.   
“I’m fi-” Sam was about to reply but then he caught sight of something curly sticking out of Dean’s underwear and then realized that it was a pig’s tail.

“What?” Dean turned to look at Sam. “Do I have something in my teeth?” Then his eyes bugged out. “Is my hair messed up?”  
“No, you look good.” Sam tried to keep the smile off his face.   
Dean looked perplexed. “Whatever man, I’m gonna take a shower before those guys show up.”  
Sam couldn’t control his laughter. Three… two… one….

“Holy crap!” Dean’s voice came from the bathroom. “Sam what the hell is this?”  
Sam tried to contain his fits of laughter and be ready for his brother to come out.  
Dean came out of the bathroom with his towel on and looked as mad as Sam had ever seen him.  
“Did you do this?” Dean muttered. “What in the hell did you do?”

Sam busted out laughing and almost rolled off the bed.  
Just then there was a knock on the door and Dean put on some pants and a t-shirt and answered the door.  
“Can I help you?” Dean looked at the two suspicious characters on the doorstep, it was a man and woman. The man was a tall black wizard with broad shoulders. He was bald with a cap on his head and a single gold hoop earring in his left ear. The woman was shorter and had dark twinkling eyes and a pale heart-shaped face and short spiky purple hair. As Dean looked at her it grew and turned from purple to blonde.

“Hello, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt and this is Nymphadora Tonks.”  
“I told you not to call me that!” The woman’s hair changed again to bright pink. “It’s just plain Tonks!” Kingsley rolled his eyes.   
Tonks shook her head violently and her hair changed back to purple. “Are you Sam or Dean?”  
Dean laughed. “I’ll be whoever you want me to be baby.”   
“Keep it up and I’ll give you a pig nose to go with that tail.” Tonks smirked.

“Tonks one, Dean zero,” Sam mumbled and Dean glared at him.

Dean scowled as Sam rolled his eyes.

“I'm Sam, and he's Dean,” he said, looking at the purple haired woman. Tonks smiled and waved her light coloured wand. The tail disappeared from the backside of Dean's jeans and he sighed in relief. 

“So you're the Muggle professors,” Kingsley said with a smile. 

“Yes, we are.” Sam came to the door. “It’s nice to meet you both.”   
“You must be Sam.” Tonks smirked. “I’ve read your files. Sam is the smart and polite one.”  
“Oh really?” Dean grinned. “What did my file say?”

She chuckled. “You don’t want to know.” _Two points Tonks, Dean still zero,_ Sam thought.  
“Are you all set to go?” Kingsley asked.   
“I think so.”

A delivery boy came up to them then and had a covered cage in his hands. “Delivery for Mr. D. Winchester?”  
“Ah, that’s me thanks.” Dean took the cage from the delivery boy.   
“What’s that?” Sam asked.   
“It was gonna be a present for you but since you gave me a pig’s tail….”

“You got me a present?” Sam sounded incredulous.   
“Not any more. She’s mine.” Dean hugged the cage close and hid it from Sam’s view.   
“Come on.”  
Eventually Dean caved and showed Sam his present. He revealed a beautiful barn owl, that hooted dolefully. Sam grinned.

“Thanks man,” Sam said gratefully.

“No problem. I've joint custody now,” Dean grinned. “I bought her.”

“She's not some girl you hooked up with at a bar Dean,” Sam said rolling his eyes.

“I know that! Plus we could send Bobby letters. I don't think our cells will work and Bobby'd be pissed if we didn't contact him somehow. Maybe we could send Cas a letter too. I doubt she could reach Heaven though,” he stated.

Tonks and Kingsley's eyes widened.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” Tonks said kindly. Dean looked confused. Sam's eyes widened and he laughed.

“No, Cas is an angel,” he explained.

“Oh,” Tonks said simply.

“Why don't we get this show on the road?” Dean asked. “Speaking of road, what about my car? Will she be coming too?” he asked with a worried expression. He had gotten Bobby to pick up the Impala when they had travelled here and his baby was now at Singer's Salvage Yard, though not for the reason most cars went there for.

“Your car will be brought to Hogwarts magically and we can enchant it and your... cell phones?” Tonks said it like it was a question. “And also, something called a laptop will work too,” she explained.

“That's great, thanks,” Sam grinned.

“We will be Side-Along-Apparating you to King's Cross station, where you will pass the barrier,” Kingsley said. “Grab your bags.”

Sam and Dean picked up the small duffel bags and the owl cage and stood facing the witch and wizard. They grabbed their arms and turned on the spot. They had the sensation of moving way too rapidly and suddenly, they were outside a huge old looking train station. 

“A bit of warning next time?” Dean said irritably. Tonks smiled.

Sam looked at his ticket. “Platform 9 and ¾, where’s that?”   
“It’s one of those things that they can’t see.” Tonks replied in a whisper. “The entrance is hidden in the place that they would least expect.”

  
“Why not just be like normal people and have it right smack dab in the middle of it all?” Dean mouthed off.   
“That kind of puts a damper on the whole ‘secret wizarding world’ Dean.” Sam rolled his eyes.

The four of them got strange looks from everyone at Kings Cross. They even heard one person say, “That must be one of those people. They are so strange.”  
“We have arrived.” Kingsley announced.  
Dean and Sam looked at the wall that separated the trains at platforms nine and ten, and then they turned to get onto the train on platform nine.   
“What are you two doing?” Tonks grabbed them.  
“Getting on the train?” Sam wondered if this was all a big joke that Cas was playing on them, but if it was it was pretty elaborate.

“No genius. The platform is there.” She pointed at the wall. “And I thought you were the smart one.”  
“I thought the ¾’s was a typo.” Sam confessed. “I thought we were going to get on platform nine and then connect somewhere else.”   
“No sir, Platform 9 and 3/4 is hidden behind that wall, we are going to go through the wall.” Kingsley informed them.

“You want us to run into a wall… on purpose?” Dean looked at the two wizards. “You’ve got to be kidding me! That’s it I’m out!” He threw up his hands and walked away.  
Tonks was about to go after him and drag him back but Sam interceded. “I’ve got this, he just needs a few minutes.”  
“Well he’d better get a move on!” Tonks looked at her watch. “The train will leave soon and it’s the only way to get there.”  
“I promise we’ll be on it.” Sam gave her his ‘good guy’ smile.   
“Dude, this is crap! I’ve put up with a lot of things but this is too much.”

“We've dealt with a lot of crap in our lives Dean,” Sam pointed out.

“But running at a wall?” Dean said exasperatedly. Kingsley approached them.

“Watch,” he said in his deep tone. 

  
  


Dean and Sam shared a weary glance. Kingsley pointed towards an eleven year old sprinting towards the wall and just as Sam and Dean thought he was going to collide with the very hard looking brickwork, he vanished. The Winchesters eyes widened.

“Great now we're being shown up by eleven year olds!” Dean said. “Cool though.”

“It wouldn't be the first time. Remember that ghost kid that beat you up when Pamela made us spirits?” Sam grinned.

“He beat you up too!” Dean said indignantly. Tonks turned to them.

“Your turn!” she grinned.

“Best to get this over with,” Sam sighed. “Oldest first,” he grinned. Dean huffed. He ran towards the wall after checking that no one was looking. He saw the brick wall growing nearer and nearer and his eyes screwed shut as he met the wall. He didn't feel the impact. It was as if walking thorough the cold, and then the loud noise of a steam engine met his ears. He opened his eyes as his brother appeared with the Aurors. 

“Better get on,” Tonks smiled.

“Thanks,” Sam smiled a little.

“Our pleasure,” Kingsley replied. 

  
  


Sam and Dean walked through the crowd of kids with their parents, getting on the train. They walked down the corridors, past compartment after compartment.

“Maybe we should just kick one of the compartments out,” Dean suggested with a shrug. “They'd have to listen to us. We're teachers.” Sam didn't bother answering. He walked further.

  
“Hey look, there's a free one here,” he said, opening the door. The Winchesters walked inside and dumped their bags on the seats beside them. Sam put the owl cage down, looking to see that the barn owl was asleep with her head under her wing.

“On a train to a magic school... and I thought our life couldn't get weirder,” Dean mused. Sam laughed.

“I'd say it would be a long journey,” Sam said, pulling out a book called _Hogwarts: A History._

“Go ahead geek boy,” Dean grinned. “What are you going to call the owl anyway?” he asked.

“I was thinking Jess,” Sam said with a note of sadness. “She's beautiful, like Jess was.”

“Yeah, Jessica was pretty alright,” Dean said, lacking the usual cockiness he would have supplied with the words. Sam smiled a little.

“I was thinking,” Sam said, changing the subject. “Maybe some of our classes should be inside and outside we would have physical training once or twice a week,” he suggested.

“Yeah, sure. They have to be able to fight without weapons and with them. Just the knowledge won't help,” Dean said. 

“True,” Sam replied.

They didn't say much more after that. A few hours had passed, and they heard a woman's voice calling out. “Anything from the trolley?”

“Great I'm starved!” Dean exclaimed. “Hope they got liquorice.” The cart stopped outside the door and the woman smiled.

“Would you like anything sirs?” she asked.

“What have you got?” Dean asked. 

“Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Jelly Slugs, Liquorice wands and Pumpkin Pasties,” She smiled.

“Awesome. Can I get two of those beans, the liquorice and some of the cakes?” Dean asked.

“No problem dear,” she said, handing him the sweets. “That will be four Sickles.” Dean handed her the money and went inside, grinning.

He picked up the Liquorice Wand and took a bite, moaning in exctasy. Sam grimaced.

“Dude, do not make those sounds... it's just plain creepy,” he shuddered.

“Shut up Sammy, here have a jelly bean,” he said, tossing him the box. Sam sighed, but took a bean out of the box and popped it into his mouth. He spit it out at once.

“What the hell is that?” he exploded. “It tasted like vomit.” Dean examined the back, seeing that vomit was one of the flavours.

“I guess they mean _every_ flavour,” he muttered with a grin.

“Shut up De-” Sam was cut off by a distant shouting down the hall. The brothers stood, and left the compartment, seeing a blond boy of around sixteen with what could only be two goons beside him. 

"Well, look who it is," said the blond in a lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel." The boys beside him chuckled trollishly.

“Shove off Malfoy,” a female voice came from inside. 

“Was I talking to you Granger?” the boy called Malfoy drawled. “Potter, you'll pay for putting my father in prison!” 

“Funny,” a new voice sounded. “What will happen? Voldemort will do me in? He hasn't had much success so far has he?”

“You!” Malfoy shouted as he lunged forward. Sam and Dean sprinted up.

“Hey what's going on here?” Dean interrupted loudly. Malfoy stopped and looked back, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing,” The raven haired boy that was inside the compartment said in a heavy British accent. Sam and Dean recognised the group inside to be the sixteen year olds they had seen in Diagon Alley. Two others joined them. One was a girl with dirty blonde hair and mystical blue eyes and she was sitting beside a boy with dark brown hair, who looked slightly nervous. 

“No rough-housing,” Dean said simply. 

“Sorry, but are you our new professors?” the bushy haired brunette asked.

“Yeah we are, now guys go off and stop causing trouble,” Dean said. The blonde's eyes were filled with disgust as he glared at them. Dean caught on.

“What's with the look? Is it cause we're... Muggles?” Dean asked in a calm tone, but only Sam could see the anger that lay beneath. 

“No,” Malfoy lied.

“I know you're lying. Listen, at the end of the day, we're all human, and the creatures we're gonna be teaching you about? They don't care if you're a witch or wizard or human. They'll still kill you. So I would drop the prejudice,” Dean said calmly. 

“Come on Crabbe, Goyle,” Malfoy said uncomfortably and the three left.

Sam and Dean left, walking away to their own compartment.

“Discrimination now? You have gotta be kidding me,” Dean exclaimed.

  
  



	7. Detours and Hunters

**Chapter 7**

**The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, England, 12 th August**

Harry awoke to the sound of Mrs. Weasley at the bedroom door.

“Come on! Up! We need to be in Diagon Alley within the hour!” she called. Ron groaned.

“We're up, we're up,” he grumbled. Both Harry and Ron arose and pulled on robes as they wiped the sleep from their eyes.

“Hey do you think we'll see the teachers?” Harry asked. Ron shrugged.

“Maybe.”

They walked downstairs in a tired fashion to see Hermione and Ginny around the table, eyes tired and not fully awake yet. Mrs. Weasley set a plate of sausage and eggs in front of them along with orange juice. 

“Thanks mum,” Ron said. His mother smiled a little back.

“You're welcome. Eat up. We have to get your things,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Where do we have to go?” Ginny asked.

“Well your textbooks in Flourish and Blotts, which are _The Standard Book of Spells (_ _Grade 6),_ _Advanced Potion-Making_ , _Confronting the Faceless_ for Defence Against the Dark Arts, _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_ , _Advanced Rune Translation and_ _Supernatural Beasts and Defence_ for Demonology,” Mrs Weasley read out, frowning slightly as she reached the end. “It also says you need suitable running wear and notebooks.”

 

“Wonder why,” Ron said with his mouth full. Mrs Weasley whacked Ron on the back of the head with the paper and scolded him, telling him not to talk while eating. Hermione and Ginny got up and left to get ready while Harry and Ron chatted.

 

Hermione and Ginny walked upstairs, and Ginny grinned.

“Do you think we'll see the new teachers in Diagon Alley?” Ginny asked.

“It's possible, but I would say that they got their things a few days ago,” Hermione answered.

“True,” Ginny replied as she pulled on her robes. She grabbed the hairbrush before Hermione could and stuck out her tongue out at her. Hermione rolled her eyes.

 

When the girls were done, they all gathered in the kitchen where Mrs Weasley was standing at the front door.

“Harry, dear I forgot. Bill got this out of your vault at Gringotts for you,” she said, handing Harry a small duffel pouch filled with Galleons.

“Tell him thanks Mrs Weasley,” Harry smiled back. Mr Weasley came down the stairs.

“I will dear,” Mrs Weasley replied.

“Come on, we must head off now,” Mr Weasley said. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars, in which Harry had ridden once before, was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house, pulling on their cloaks.

"It's good Dad can get us these again," said Ron appreciatively, stretching luxuriously as the car moved smoothly away from the Burrow, Bill and Fleur waving from the kitchen window. He, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were all sitting in roomy comfort in the wide back-seat.

"Don't get used to it, it's only because of Harry," said Mr. Weasley over his shoulder. He and Mrs. Weasley were in front with the Ministry driver; the front passenger seat had obligingly stretched into what resembled a two-seater sofa.

"He's been given top-grade security status. And we'll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron too."

"Here you are, then," said the driver, a surprisingly short while later, speaking for the first time as he slowed in Charing Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. "I'm to wait for you, any idea how long you'll be?"

"A couple of hours, I expect," said Mr. Weasley. "Ah, good, he's here!"

Harry looked over and smiled as he saw Hagrid.

"Harry!" he boomed, sweeping Harry into a bone crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of the car. The group moved through the Leaky Cauldron, noticing that the atmosphere was thick with tension. They arrived in Diagon Alley and Mr Weasley spoke.

"Why don't those three go with Hagrid, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone's school-books?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Mrs. Weasley anxiously, clearly torn between a desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a pack. "Hagrid, do you think —?"

"Don't fret, they'll be fine with me, Molly," said Hagrid soothingly, waving an airy hand the size of a dustbin lid. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid set off for Madam Malkin's.

When they reached the store front, Harry could see through the window that Madam Malkin was upset about something, he wondered if there was something wrong.  
“’Ello Madam Malkin!” Hagrid greeted her with a big smile.  
“Oh, hello Hagrid! It’s good to see you again!” Madam Malkin replied with a small smile, chasing away her worried expression.

“I’ve brought in the youngsters ‘ere for some new robes.” Hagrid gestured to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  
“Yea, I’ve used mine so much that they’ve got holes in them.” Ron pointed to the cuffs of his robe that were worn out from abuse.   
“Oh Mr. Weasley, you have got to take better care of your robes!” Madam Malkin chucked and took him back first.

Hermione went in next and then Harry was the last to go.  
“Madam Malkin, is everything alright?” Harry asked as she started pinning away. “You looked like something was bothering you earlier.”  
Madam Malkin had a concerned look on her face but quickly replaced it with a calm demeanor. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just tired from a long day’s work. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Harry didn’t ask any more questions about it. Whatever was bothering her was her business.   
The four of them thanked Madam Malkin and left the shop.   
“Did you notice Madam Malkin’s expression before we came in?” Hermione asked them.  
“I thought I was the only one.” Harry admitted. “She looked upset about something.”

“Yea, I thought it was a bit strange.” Ron agreed. “Did she say anything to the two of you?”  
“She told me that she was just tired.” Harry answered.   
“Well, she confided in me that the new professors were in a few minutes before us.” Hermione said.  
“Really? Did something bad happen?” Ron’s eyebrows knitted together.  
“She said that they started fighting about something.” Hermoine replied. “She didn’t say what about though.”

“Huh,” Ron sighed.

“I'm sure she'll be okay,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Harry frowned. “Hey look,” he said, glancing at the entrance to Knockturn Alley to see Draco Malfoy look around before walking down.

“The git going down into Knockturn? What a surpr-” Ron was suddenly cut off by a man. He was tall, with long brown hair, hazel eyes and an angry expression as he walked after another man that was shorter than him by a couple of inches, that had sandy blonde hair and hazel green eyes. Harry remembered with a jolt that these were the men in the Daily Prophet, their Demonology professors.

“Dean... I know you hate talking about this stuff, but you gotta talk sometime. It could kill you otherwise,” the taller man choked out in a hard voice.

“We can talk about it later Sammy,” the man named Dean said in a tired tone. 

They noticed the trio of young students and walked to the opposite side of the street.

“That must be the new professors.” Hermione remembered their faces from the Daily Prophet article.   
“What’s their problem?” Ron asked angrily.   
“Obviously, they are having a private conversation and didn’t want us to intrude, Ronald.” Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. “Honestly, you can be so thick some times.”  
“That doesn’t give them an excuse to ignore us.”  
“We have to keep our opinions to ourselves.” Harry reminded them. “Remember what Dumbledore told us to do.”   
“I know, we’re supposed to be nice to them.” Ron glowered in their direction but said no more on the subject.

“Ron, they were talking about something important,” Hermione pressed.

Ron huffed while Hermione rolled her eyes.  
“Come on, let’s go see what Malfoy is up to.” Harry motioned for them for follow him down Knockturn Alley.   
When they reached the shop called _Borgin and Burkes,_ he put his hand out for Hermione and Ron to stop while he peaked into the window to see if Malfoy was in there.  
Malfoy was standing with his back to the window staring at a huge cabinet talking with the shop keeper. It looked like they were having an argument of some sort. Malfoy was flailing his arms around like Dudley did when he was having a tantrum and the shop keeper would respond in the same manner.

“Go, go, go!” Harry whispered as he saw Malfoy coming towards the door, they hid in an abandoned alleyway cloaked by the darkness. 

  
Malfoy looked terrible, his eyes were bloodshot and he was looking more gaunt than usual, his platinum blonde hair was very unkempt. He noticed his reflection in the glass window from the shop across the way and fixed his hair and then straightened out his clothes. He set his face in his trademark scowl and stalked down the street.

  
“Wow, he looked like Hell.” Ron crossed his arms and frowned. “What do you think he was doing in there?”  
“I was in there once.” Harry replied. “It’s a little shop of horrors alright.” He flexed his hand, remembering the feeling of being trapped in that creepy hand trap thing.

“Can we go?” Hermione asked with a worried expression. “I don’t like being down here.”  
They all walked quickly back up to Diagon Alley.   
“Oy! Where have you lot been?” Hagrid gave them a good scolding for running off.  
“We’re sorry Hagrid.” They apologized.   
They met up with the rest of the group in front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes the shop that was ran by Ron’s twin older brothers Fred and George. There were many kids staring into the windows and going into the shop with bright eyes and their faces were lit up with glee.

“ _WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO? YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO—THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!”_ Was the sign that greeted them as they went into the front door.  
“Ron, did I ever tell you that your brothers are fantastic?” Harry asked rhetorically.  
“Yea, well don’t tell them that.” Ron smirked. “You don’t want to make their egos better than they already are.”

  
  


***

  
September the first came around in what seemed like no time at all. Mrs Weasley had woken them that morning and they had all sluggishly gotten dressed.  
“It’s been six years and you would think we would be used to getting up this early.” Harry yawned as he got up and stretched.  
“Ugh, this never gets any easier.” Ron groaned into his pillow. “Hermione needs to find a wide awake spell… or potion… or something….” And within seconds he was snoring into his pillow again.  
“They’ve already invented that one mate, Accio alarm clock.” Harry waved his wand and the alarm clock that Hermione had given Ron last year for his birthday floated from the closet where Ron had thrown it the first time he used it. Harry set the time and set it right by Ron’s head. He figured he had just enough time to run over to the other side of the room before the alarm clock went off.

“Oy!” Ron bolted off the bed and landed in the floor. Harry couldn’t control his laughter as he looked at Ron’s dumbfounded expression. 

“You! I’ll get you for this Harry Potter, you little git!” Ron tackled Harry to the ground and started to give him a noogie.   
Mrs. Weasley had left the door to Ron’s bedroom open and just as Harry and Ron were really getting into it Hermione walked by and shook her head. Rolling her eyes and said “Boys.” in a sigh.

“Come on everyone,” Mrs Weasley shouted from the storey below.

They all walked downstairs, and hungrily devoured the bowls of cereal they had picked out.

They ate quickly, excitement for Hogwarts seeping into their minds.

“You saw our professors?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah, they seemed to be arguing about something though,” Hermione frowned a little.

“I wonder what?” Ginny mused.

“That's none of your concern Ginevera,” Mrs Weasley said. “It must be hard for them, being around witches and wizards.”

“Ah, Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley suddenly. "I forgot, I wanted to explain about the security arrangements for the journey to Hogwarts tomorrow. We've got Ministry cars again, and there will be Aurors waiting at the station--"  
"Is Tonks going to be there?" asked Harry, handing over his Quidditch things.  
"No, I don't think so, she's been stationed somewhere else from what Arthur said.”

The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the Burrow. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks was safely enclosed in his travelling basket; and Hedwig; Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon; and Ginny's new purple Pygmy Puff, Arnold, in cages.

 

There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.  
"Quick, quick, through the barrier," said Mrs. Weasley, who seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency. 

  
Harry pushed his trolley directly at the solid barrier, and found himself, a second later, standing on Platform 9¾, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd. Hermione and the Weasleys joined him within seconds. Harry motioned to Ron and Hermione to follow him up the platform, looking for an empty compartment.  
"We can't, Harry," said Hermione, looking apologetic. "Ron and I've got to go to the prefects' carriage first and then patrol the corridors for a bit."  
"Oh yeah, I forgot," said Harry.  
"You'd better get straight on the train, all of you, you've only got a few minutes to go," said Mrs. Weasley, consulting her watch. "Well, have a lovely term, Ron..."

  
"Now, dear, you're coming to us for Christmas, it's all fixed with Dumbledore, so we'll see you quite soon," said Mrs. Weasley through the window, as Harry slammed the door shut behind him and the train began to move.   
  
Harry waved until the train had turned a corner and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were lost to view. He made his way toward her, dragging his trunk. People stared shamelessly as he approached. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him.  
"Fancy trying to find a compartment?" Harry asked  
"I can't, Harry, I said I'd meet Dean Thomas," said Ginny brightly. "See you later."  
"Right," said Harry.   
"Hi, Harry!" said a familiar voice from behind him.  
"Neville!" said Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling toward him.  
"Hello, Harry," said a girl with long hair and large misty eyes, who was just behind Neville.  
"Luna, hi, how are you?"  
"Very well, thank you," said Luna. She was clutching a magazine to her chest; large letters on the front announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside. They finally found a compartment and sat down. The talk was minimal as the time passed and a few moments before the food trolley 

arrived, Ron and Hermione returned. 

 

“Malfoy's bullying some first years... git,” Ron scowled.

“It's really wrong of him,” Hermione agreed.

“Is it?” asked a bored voice from the door as it opened to reveal Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. 

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in a lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.

“Shove off Malfoy,” Hermione replied angrily. 

“Was I talking to you Granger?” Malfoy drawled. “Potter, you'll pay for putting my father in prison!” 

  
  


“Funny,” Harry said, as if he were speaking to a two year old. “What will happen? Voldemort will do me in? He hasn't had much success so far has he?” 

“You!” Malfoy shouted as he lunged forward. They heard rapid footsteps approaching.

“Hey what's going on here?” a voice interrupted loudly in a heavy American accent, with a slight Texan twang. Malfoy stopped and looked back, eyes narrowing. It was Dean Winchester, one of their Demonology teachers. His brother, Sam came to his side. They weren't wearing robes. Dean had a t shirt, an open shirt over it and a leather jacket covering it all. A small amulet hung from around his neck. His brother had a white flannel shirt on and jeans.

  
  


“Nothing,” Harry replied. He noted that Luna's face was a mask of dream like calm, and Neville’s was filled with nerves. 

“No rough-housing,” Dean said simply. 

“Sorry, but are you our new professors?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah we are, now guys, go off and stop causing trouble,” Dean said. The blonde's eyes were filled with disgust as he glared at them. Dean caught on.

“What's with the look? Is it cause we're... Muggles?” Dean asked in a calm tone. He looked eerily calm... too calm.

“No,” Malfoy lied.

“I know you're lying. Listen, at the end of the day, we're all human, and the creatures we're gonna be teaching you about? They don't care if you're a witch or wizard or human. They'll still kill you. So I would drop the prejudice,” Dean said calmly. 

“Come on Crabbe, Goyle,” Malfoy said uncomfortably and the three left. Dean and Sam also left.

“Wow,” Neville mumbled.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Ron replied. The Winchesters certainly weren't people to mess with.


	8. Thestrals and Speeches

**Chapter 8**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1 st September**

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station in record time, the billowing of smoke announcing its arrival. Students poured out of the steam engine in throngs. Sam and Dean Winchester stood among them, waiting to get off. 

“Damn kids won't move,” Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes. He was a little surprised. Dean was good with kids. He had seen it first hand. On the second hunt since Jessica's death, at Lake Manitoc in Wisconsin. A little boy, Lucas, who had seen his father's drowning a few months before, was comforted by Dean. It was a side Sam rarely got to see.

“ _See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you_ ,” Dean had said. Sam held back a sigh. Dean was holding back so much... so much he put on his shoulders. 

“All firs' years over 'ere!” a booming voice called.

“Ah Mr. and Mr. Winchester.” A voice came up from behind the two men.  
They turned in shock to see Professor McGonagall’s amused face that greeted their surprised faces.  
“Would you stop doing that?!” Dean growled at her.  
“Why would you deny me the chance of scaring the wits out of you?” She chuckled playfully. “I am to escort you to the carriages where you will be taken to the castle and then you will be sorted into your houses.” 

 

“Sorted into houses?” Sam questioned. “What does that mean?”  
“You’ll find out soon enough.” She smirked. “Follow me.”  
They followed her down to where a group of students were waiting. There was a carriage that was pulling as they were coming closer. The students turned to see the professors and went wide-eyed.  
“What are you staring at?” Professor McGonagall glowered at them.  
“Nothing Professor McGonagall ma’am.” They all said in unison. 

“Man it’s like fourth grade all over again.” Dean whispered to Sam. The students turned their attention to the two brothers as Dean made his comment.  
“Hi.” Dean addressed them. “I’m Dean Winchester, and this is my baby brother Sammy.” Sam glared at his older brother.  
“Hello Professors Winchester.” The students said in unison.  
“Please call us Sam and Dean.” Sam told them with a smile. “Professor Winchester would be too confusing.” 

 

“And nerdy.” Dean added in a whisper, Sam rolled his eyes.  
“Well, since the introductions are over I guess I’ll be going then.” Professor McGonagall gave them a stern nod and turned swiftly on the spot and walked up to the castle.  
“Goodbye Professor McGonagall.” The many children speaking with one voice bid her farewell.   
“Ok, the speaking in unison crap is really getting old.” Dean told them trying to look like the stern teacher type. 

 

“I’m sorry Professor Winchester.” A small girl smiled sheepishly. “We are so used to addressing the professors as such that you kind of get used to it.” She put her magazine up into her bag and approached them with an air of amusement. 

  
“Well throw all that out the window with us.” Dean smirked. “What’s your name?”  
“Luna, Luna Lovegood.” She smiled brightly. She was wearing freakishly psychedelic glasses that she pulled off and sat on top of her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Dean Winchester.” 

“Dean.” Sam muttered disapprovingly.   
“It’s alright Sam.” Luna smiled dreamily. “These are called spectrespecs. They allow me to see the wrackspurts. You can’t see them without these.”  
“What are wrackspurts?” Sam asked her. 

“They are invisible creatures that float through your ears causing the brain to go fuzzy.” She leaned in and beckoned them to come closer. “There have been some nasty cases of them wreaking havoc on unsuspecting witches and wizards, a whole bunch of them broke out of the Ministry Elfin’ Safety Enquiry.”  
“Where did you hear that from?”  
“Here.” She pulled out two copies of her magazine and handed it to them. “Each copy has a free pair of spectrespecs in it!” 

 

The Quibbler was scrawled across the top with _Xenophilius Lovegood: Editor and chief_ under it.  
“Xenophilius? Is he related to you?”  
“Yes he’s my father.”  
“They are both bloody mental.” One of the other students snickered and other’s joined in.  
Sam and Dean both came to the same conclusion that Luna was a sweet girl and needed to be protected from these snobby kids. Just then a carriage pulled up that was driven by two skeletal horses and no driver.  
“What in the world are those things pulling the carriage?” Sam stared in horror as the other students paid no attention to them.  
“Oh great, another bunch of freaks.” The same kid rolled his eyes as he stepped on the carriage. “There’s nothing pulling them!” 

“Those are called thestrals.” Luna replied to Sam’s question paying no attention to the boy’s remark. “If you can see them that means that you have witnessed someone die.”  
Sam and Dean shared a look; they, more than anyone else could see the thestrals, better than anyone.  
“Don’t be afraid of them.” Luna sensed their distress. “They have been given a bad reputation for being omens of death but they are very kind and gentle once you get to know them.”  
The remaining students got in the carriages and Sam and Dean elected to wait with Luna for the next carriage. 

Sam and Dean looked at each other. They had seen more than their fair share of death since 1983. First their mother, then Jess, Dad, Madison, Dean and Sam themselves, Zachariah, Anna, Ellen, Jo, Gabriel, Bobby and Cas once. Some were enemies, some allies. There had been more death of course and the fact that they had witnessed the deaths of the people they loved, watching them die, was too much to bear. Hell, a month before, Dean had gone to an unlicensed doctor to get his heart stopped so he could talk to the horseman, Death about getting Sam's soul back from Lucifer's Cage. Dying didn't really bother either brother any more. They had died multiple times, excluding Dean's curse with the then thought to be Trickster. Their worst fears were leaving the other behind. They had never said it, but they both knew it was true. 

 

The Winchesters got into the carriages. Dean shuddered at the word as it took off.

“Dean, look,” Sam breathed.

“Woah,” Dean mumbled. The castle was huge. There were turrets pointing into the sky, enormous green houses, clock tower, halls and the castle had an aura of magic to it. They approached the castle with the babbling of the students around them. Both Sam and Dean left the carriage and stood, facing a huge door. 

They were stopped by a man with hunched-shouldersand a hunchback.He had a horrible, pouchyand pasty faceand bulging, pale eyes, along with sunken, veined cheeks.He had thin grey hair.

“We need to check you,” he said raising an object that looked like an aerial. It did nothing and he waved them forward.

“Weird,” Dean muttered to Sam.

“They could hardly let a student bring in something dangerous could they?” Sam countered.

They walked inside. The walls were made of stone and marble sculptures adorned the room, but the main element in the room was the huge staircase. Sam looked over to see four giant hour glasses, one red, with rubies inside, the next green with emeralds, blue with sapphires and yellow with ambers.

“What are those for?” Dean asked, pointing to the hourglasses.

“The Houses can gain points by achievements and lose points for misbehaving. The House with the most points wins the House Cup at the end of the year,” Luna told them.

“Where do we have to go?” Sam asked Luna.

“The Great Hall. We have our Sorting ceremony and a start of term feast,” she explained. Dean grinned. They had come to another huge mahogany door. People filled in and Dean and Sam waited outside. They stood out of the way of the students as the last of them filed in. 

“Pardon me.” A few of the younger students said.   
“Great, we stick out like a sore thumb.” Dean muttered as they tried to edge past the students and make it to the wall. “Where is the wicked witch when you need her?”   
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said from the front of the line of first years. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.” She smiled brightly at them.

 

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”

  
“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smart yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Her eyes lingered for a moment on the Winchester boys in the back trying to be inconspicuous.

“I will return when we are ready for you,” Professor McGonagall said. “Please wait quietly.” She made her way to the back where Sam and Dean were trying to hide. “The two of you can stay with this group to be sorted.  
“Will this hurt professor?” Sam truly looked worried.   
“Not at all, physically anyway.” She grinned and walked back into the great hall.  
“Man, she is evil!” Dean grimaced after her.

“Yep.” Sam mumbled. A few moments passed with the nervous first years speaking rapidly to each other. Minerva came back out and smiled a little.  
“We're ready for you now,” she said. The first years began walking inside and Sam and Dean were aware of the knives they kept in their boots. They always had to have some kind of weapon on them. It made them feel naked otherwise.  
Sam tried to absorb as much about the place as possible, I mean how many chances are you going to get to be in an enchanted castle? He then started noticing the paintings move, not only moving but talking.  
“Good luck!” One said to a passing student. “I hope you make it into my house!”  
“This is beyond weird.” Dean muttered.  
“Compared with what we’ve faced before, this should be a cakewalk.” Sam muttered with a grin.

They walked inside to see four long tabled, decorated with the four House colours, and at the top was a small stool with a hat on it. Behind that was a long table that reached the width of the Hall, containing what could only be the teachers. There were candles floating above them around the Hall and it looked as if it were open to the sky outside.   
“It says in one of the books I read that it's enchanted to look like the sky outside,” Sam told Dean.  
“Nerd,” Dean muttered and Sam scowled at him.  
They walked down the center, noticing the students looking at them with interest. They were two six foot tall men in their late twenties and early thirties, among four foot tall eleven year olds.  
And if things couldn’t get any weirder, the ratty hat started talking.

  
  


“ _A millenium ago, I think,_  
Before I was ripped and torn,   
Four founders came together,   
And dear Hogwarts School was born.   
Each founder picked the qualities   
That he or she liked best,   
They put their thoughts inside me,   
And now I'll put you to the test.  
Do you have the courage   
That dear Gryffindor admired?   
Or perhaps you have the knowledge   
That fair Ravenclaw required.   
Would Hufflepuff suit you better,   
With your honest dedication?   
Or Slytherin, with your ambition,   
Or your purest of relations?  
Don't fret, my friends, I will decide   
Which house is best for all.   
But listen well, I warn you now,   
That such divisions do appall.   
I've said it once, I'll say again   
As I have said before,   
That only by uniting,   
Can there be an end to war.  
For no side can be strongest   
Whether they are good or not,   
Than when we use the qualities   
That I reveal you've got.   
For bravery and teamwork,   
And a longing to succeed,   
Along with knowledge, sure and strong,   
Are qualities we all need.

 _So step right up, slap me on,_  
I'll tell you what to do.   
The Sorting Hat will place you   
With others just like you.   
But heed my warning, listen clear,   
Divided though you be:   
Together we're united,   
Through bonds of wizardry.”

Everyone applauded and Professor McGonagall approached the hat and reading from a scroll she called off names one by one.

The students went up and put the hat on their heads and after a moment, the hat roared the House out to the students and their new House cheered. Sam and Dean waited with baited breath. They walked up to the head table and saw a silver haired old man with half moon specticles and midnight blue robes with stars sitting in a fancy chair in the centre.

“Welcome to Hogwarts Messers Winchester. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster,” the old man said warmly, shaking their hands.

“Thanks,” Sam said. 

“My pleasure. We have kept seats for you here and if it is alright, I will introduce you to the students during my speech.”

“That's fine with me,” Sam replied. Dumbledore rose up out of his chair then and walked over to a podium that had an owl on the front and candles on top of its wings.

  
  


“Very best of evenings to you all.” He addressed the students. “First off, let me introduce the newest members of our staff. Horace Slughorn,” He gestured to his left and a short man stood up. The students started clapping. “Professor Slughorn, I’m happy to say has agreed to resume his old post as Potions Master. Meanwhile, the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts will be taken by Professor Snape.” No one from the teachers table stood up so the brothers had no idea who he was. There was scattered clapping throughout the hall, mostly from the table to the far right of the room. One student even called out “Snape?” in outrage.

 

“Also we will be adding a new subject to our class roster as we welcome our new friends from beyond the pond, Professor’s Samuel and Dean Winchester.” He gestured to where the brothers were sitting. They both stood up and smiled at the students. “They will be teaching Demonology.”

No one spoke or clapped for them. “We got a better reception with the Campbells.” Dean whispered.

“Now Messers Winchester, if you wouldn’t mind stepping forward, we will be sorting you into a house.”

 

Sam and Dean approached the podium and the sorting hat was brought back out. Dean was the first to sit on the small three legged stool and have the sorting hat put on. Two seconds later the hat roared “GRYFFINDOR!” The table that held the Gryffindor students erupted in applause. Sam approached the stool with wary apprehension. He hoped that he and his brother would stick together, but he was afraid that he wouldn’t be classified as brave, and there was no house for cowards. He held his breath as the hat was put over his head. It was dark inside the hat but it didn’t stay that way for long. Memories from his past whizzed before his eyes. Azazel, the special children, demon blood, Ruby, Lucifer.

 

“ _Are you sure you belong with your brother in Gryffindor?_ ” the hat’s voice drifted lazily through his head.

 _I want to stay with my brother,_ Sam thought in his mind.

“ _But all the things that you have seen, the things you have done, you look more suited to be with Slytherin. Or maybe Hufflepuff, you are a very loyal person regardless of where your loyalties lie. Or perhaps Ravenclaw, you are the bright one of the two of you. But if you are sure, then I’d say…_ ”

 

“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat roared again and the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers again.

Dumbledore and the others clapped their hands and the brothers returned to their seats at the head table, he then cleared his throat and continued. 

 

“Now as you know each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival here tonight. And you have the right to know why. Once there was a young man who, like you, sat in this very hall walked this castle’s corridors, slept under its roof. He seemed to all the world a student like any other. His name? Tom Riddle.”

He took a brief pause to look at the students with sad eyes. A small murmur ran through the crowd, Sam and Dean didn’t understand their reaction to a simple name.

“Today, of course he’s known all over the world by another name. Which is why, as I stand looking out upon you all tonight I’m reminded of a sobering fact. Every day, every hour this very minute, perhaps dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle’s walls. But in the end, their greatest weapon is you.”

 

Sam noticed a boy with platinum blonde hair sitting at the right most table shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He remembered his face from the train, he was bullying that kid with the glasses, Harry.

“Just something to think about.” Dumbledore smiled grimly. “Let the feast begin.”

The tables were magically filled with food and everyone dug in, though it wasn’t with much enthusiasm.

 

“Woah,” Dean grinned as he immediately began piling his plate with food. Sam rolled his eyes as he ate. The chatter was growing from the students.

 

“Dean, Samuel?” Dumbledore asked. The Winchesters looked up. “I would like to introduce you to our staff if you like.”

“Yeah sure,” Sam smiled a little.

“Beside you is Severus Snape. He now teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts and is Head of Slytherin House,” he said looking to a man in black robes, had greasy black hair and black eyes with a hooked nose. He did not look up. “You know Minerva of course, and this is Promona Sproud, Herbology professor and is Head of Hufflepuff House..” he explained. He introduced every one of the staff and they smiled at them. 

 

“Sam!” Dean suddenly said rising from his chair. Sam looked up to see ghosts flying around the Hall. Sam reached for his gun.

“Please, there is no need. They are not a harm to anyone,” Dumbledore assured. “They are our House ghosts.”

“How long till they turn vengeful?” Dean growled.

“They will not, I assure you. They have been like this for hundreds of years,” Dumbledore explained. Sam and Dean slowly sat back down, not taking their eyes off of the ghosts. They finished quickly and dessert was served. Dean had grabbed the first piece of pie he could while Sam chose chocolate fudge cake. He savoured the taste of the sweet chocolate. When it was over, Dumbledore stood again and the food disappeared, leaving the plates pristine.

 

“Now that we are all fed and watered, I hope everyone will rest well for tomorrow's lessons I shall finish with a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

Sam and Dean looked at each other in bewilderment as the students rose to leave. They stood, lifting their duffel bags and trunk they shared.

 

“Will I show you to your rooms?” a woman they recognised as Professor Burbage asked.

“Yeah that'd be great, thanks,” Sam said.

“This way,” she said. They left the Great Hall and walked through a maze of corridors and eventually ended up in front of a statue.

“Toffee Éclairs,” she said. Sam raised an eyebrow as the statue moved. She brought them up the stairs that had been revealed and they stopped outside a door.

“This door contains your rooms. You will have your own rooms, but a door will connect them for convenience,” she said.

“Thank you,” Sam said. Dean nodded. They both went inside the doors and separated into their own rooms. That night it was a little hard for them to get to sleep, even though they were so exhausted. They were used to sleeping in the same room and it was a little strange at first. Both brothers fell into a peaceful sleep, smiling. They were beginning to like this.


	9. The Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend

**Chapter 9**

**Mallfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England 25 th August**

The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they stood quite still, wands directed at each other’s chests; then, recognizing each other , they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction.The lane was bordered on the left by wild, low-growing brambles, on the right by a high, neatly manicured hedge. The men's long cloaks flapped around their ankles as they marched.  


They turned right, into a wide driveway that led off the lane. A wrought-iron gates stopped their way. Neither of them broke step. In silence both raised their left arms in a of salute and passed straight through, as though the dark metal was smoke. Severus and Yaxley moved forward with an air of trepidation. A handsome manor house grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive. Snape and Yaxley sped toward the front door, which swung inward at their approach, though nobody had visibly opened it.  
  
The hallway was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering most of the stone floor. The eyes of the pale-faced portraits on the wall followed Snape and Yaxley as they strode past. The two men halted at a heavy wooden door leading into the next room, hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, then Snape turned the bronze handle.  
  
The drawing room was full of silent people, sitting at a long and ornate table. The room's usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror. Snape and Yaxley lingered for a moment on the threshold. Their eyes were drawn upward to the strangest feature of the scene: an apparently unconscious human figure hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope, and reflected in the mirror and in the bare, polished surface of the table below. None of the people seated underneath this singular sight were looking at it except for a pale young man sitting almost directly below it. He seemed unable to prevent himself from glancing upward every minute or so.  
  
"Yaxley. Snape," said a high, clear voice from the head of the table.The speaker’s frame was silhouetted by the ominous glow from the fire place. The two men had to get closer to make out smaller details: the smooth hairless head, snakelike, with slits for nostrils, gleaming red eyes with vertical pupils, and skin that was so pale that he seemed to glow in the faint light. Lord Voldemort smiled, it was more of a cruel scowl.  
“Severus sit here.” He said indicating the seat to his immediate right. “Yaxley, sit beside Dolohov.”

 

They took their places as instructed. Yaxley was not very happy about it though, muttering something about being ‘the master’s favourite’. The others sat around the table, with the exception of Draco Malfoy, looked to Snape, as did Voldemort who spoke to him first.  
“So?”

“There are new additions to the staffing at Hogwarts,” Snape said.

“If you are referring to that idiot Slughorn, I am aware of it.” Voldemort dismissed him.  
“No my Lord, there is a whole new subject being introduced this year, it’s mandatory to all students: Demonology.”

  
An uneasy murmur ran through the group, demons were not ones to be trifled with. Voldemort leaned closer to Snape. “Go on Severus.” 

“The Headmaster has summoned two Muggle demon hunting brothers from the United States to teach this new subject, the Winchesters. They have a very sordid past, murders, and arrests, to name a few things. The headmaster wasn’t very forthcoming with information on them.”  
“Well, well, this is an interesting development.” Voldemort replied. “Well if they are going to bring in more fire power, so should we.”

  
“And it looks like you need my help.” A voice rang through the hall. The group looked all around for the source of the voice. 

“’Ello gov’ner!” a tall stranger said from beside Voldemort’s chair, they all turned to see a tall dark haired man smirking at them. One of the wizards tried to draw their wand but with a flick of his hand the wizard was sent flying and was pinned to the wall. “Oh come now, those won’t be necessary. As I said earlier, I am here to help you with the Winchester infestation.” 

 

“What could you possibly do?” Voldemort replied. “Who are you?”

“Name's Crowley. Former King of the Crossroads, now, King of Hell,” Crowley replied with a smile. A large growl ripped through the air and several Death Eaters jumped.

“My Hellhound. Nice huh?” Crowley grinned. “Sit!” he commanded and the growling stopped.

“As I was saying, I can help you kill the pesky rodents that the Winchesters are, and that Potter kid you want dead too,” Crowley noted.

”Why would you do that?” Voldemort replied in nothing but a snarl.

“Relax . Just a simple proposition. I will help you kill the Winchesters, and the Potter kid, if you help me with a plan of my own.”

“What kind of plan?” Voldemort coldly said.

 

“I want to break open Purgatory. It holds all of the monsters that have been killed. Vampires, Rugarus, Shapeshifters, Leviathan, Wendigos, the lot. I want their souls so I can harvest their powers to fight our wars. I've acquired an Angel friend of the Winchesters that I am sharing my army with, so he can fight his side. I'll give you 1,500 souls to fight along with your army,” Crowley explained. He snapped his fingers and a man with black hair, blue eyes, wearing a suit with a tench-coat over it appeared.

 

“What Crowley,” he said without emotion.

“Don't be like that Feathers. Just wanted to introduce you to some friends,” Crowley said brightly.

“We can help you with this, but if you don't want to,” Crowley trailed off.   
“Yes,” Voldemort said and his followers looked at him in shock.

“Master, you mustn't team up with this.. thing,” Bellatrix Lestrange exclaimed in outrage.

“Silence Bella,” Voldemort said with no emotion.

“It's a deal,” Crowley said as he and the man disappeared.

~*~

“You said Eve could open the door to Purgatory,” Castiel said sullenly.

“Correct. I did. And I'm confident that she could have if she was still alive! Single best chance to get over the rainbow, and the Winchesters killed her!” Crowley snapped. She had been dead weeks now, before the Winchester's invitation to have tea with the wizards for the year.

“It was unavoidable,” Castiel replied. Crowley rounded on him.

“You screwed up, Cas. You let the hounds mangle the pheasant, and now I am up to my elbows in it!” he exclaimed.

“What is your point?” the Angel interrupted.

“The point is...You're distracted, and that makes me nervous,” Crowley said with a small air of unease.

“I am holding up my end,” Castiel insisted.

“Ah, yes. But is that all you're holding? See...the stench of that Impala's all over your overcoat, Angel. I thought we'd agreed - no more nights out with the boys,” Crowley chided. He was not stupid. He knew how much the Angel hung around with the Winchester brothers.

“I spoke with Dean. I needed to know what they know.”

“About what? About me, maybe? Forgive me, but I think you might have a little conflict of interest here,” Crowley snapped. Crowley had a point, of course. His interest was conflicted. He still considered himself the Winchesters' guardian. After all... they taught him how to stand up... What to stand for... And what generally happens when you do. Castiel remembered the fight with Lucifer, being exploded into tiny chunks. He was...done. He was over. And then the most extraordinary thing happened. He was put back together. His second chance. And they had won. They had stopped Armageddon. But at the terrible cost of losing Sam Winchester.

Castiel had not liked the young man at first. He had believed that Samuel was the man fated to bring on the Apocalypse. To his surprise, he found that Sam was kinder than he had thought and cared about his brother more than anything else. Sam had made mistakes, and other Angels would surely have hated him for them, but Castiel had come to realise that humans made mistakes.

 

Castiel knew what he had to do next. Once again, he went to the depths of Hell, to free Sam from Lucifer's Cage. The first time had been bad enough, when he had gotten the command from his Father to rescue Dean's soul before the breaking of the first Seal. Of course, he had been too late, and Dean had given in to Alastair's torture. It was nearly impossible to rescue Sam, but he had been so full of confidence, of mission. He saw now that was arrogance... Because, of course, he hadn't truly raised Sam -- not all of him. Just his body. He had left his soul to rot with Michael and Lucifer.

“Please. I'm begging you, Castiel. Just kill the Winchesters,” Crowley interrupted Castiel's thoughts. “It;ll make things a whole lot easier. Having these wizards on our side will be an advantage.” 

“No,” Castiel replied in a hard voice.

“Fine. Then I'll do it myself,”he shrugged.

“If you kill them, I'll just bring them back again,” Castiel said determinedly. 

“No, you won't. Not where I'll put 'em. Trust me,” the King of Hell replied.

“I said...No. Don't worry about them,” Castiel insisted.

“Don't worry about -- what, like Lucifer didn't worry? Or Michael? Or Lilith or Alastair or Azazel didn't worry?! Am I the only game piece on the board who doesn't underestimate those denim-wrapped nightmares?!” Crowley exclaimed. “

“Just find Purgatory. If you don't, we will both die again and again, until the end of time. The Winchesters won't get to you,” Castiel assured.

“Let them get to me! I'll tear their friggin' hearts out!” Crowley exploded. Castiel knew they already suspected. And the worst part was Dean, trying so hard to be loyal, with every instinct telling him otherwise. He was a good man. Castiel was ashamed. He had no choice. He did it to protect the boys. Or to protect himself. H-He really didn't know anymore. Hiding...Lying...Sweeping away evidence. And his motives used to be so pure. 

After supposedly "saving" Sam, he had finally returned to heaven. There were many heavens. One for each soul. Castiel preferred the heaven of the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who drowned in a bathtub in 1953. 

_He had looked around, seeing several Angels around him. He had felt the sun on his vessel's skin, Jimmy's skin. He saw the large plain of green grass, smelt the flowers that grew in small beds that lay in various places. An Angel, Rachel stepped forward._

“ _You're alive,” she said in wonder._

“ _Yes,” Castiel replied simply._

“ _Castiel, we saw Lucifer destroy you,” Rachel replied, still shocked._

“ _Well, I came back.”_

“ _But Lucifer? Michael?” Rachel enquired._

“ _They're gone.”_

“ _It was God, wasn't it?” she speculated, smiling._

“ _No. It was the Winchesters. They brought down the Apocalypse,” Castiel replied, with an air of pride and awe._

“ _But you beat the Archangels, Castiel. God brought you back. He chose you, Cas...To lead us,” she proclaimed._

“ _No,” Castiel insisted. Would they ever see? “No one leads us anymore. We're all free to make our own choices and to choose our own fates.”_

“ _What does God want?” Rachel asked, not understanding. The Angels never understood human emotions. Greed, lust, compassion, love. All human emotions that Angels could not grasp at. He couldn't understand why Anna had chosen to fall, but after a while, he began to understand as he delved into the human emotions he had come to see Sam and Dean experience. He saw that there were different types of love. Love between a parent and child, love between partners, love for friends and of course, there was materialistic love._

“ _God wants you to have freedom,” he told the Angels_

“ _But what does he want us to do with it?” Rachel asked, still confused. If Castiel had known then what he knew now...he might have said..."It's simple. Freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it."_

_~*~_

Several days had passed. Castiel appeared in a circular room that was Crowley's lab. He glared at the demon.

“You sent demons after them?” he demanded.

“You kill my hunters. Why can't I kill yours?” Crowley said, as if talking about a baseball game.

“They're my friends,” he growled. 

“You can't have friends, not anymore. I mean, my God. You're losing it!” Crowley deadpanned.

“I'm fine,” Castiel insisted.

“Yeah. You're the very picture of mental health. Come on. You don't think I know what this is all about?” Crowley announced flippantly.

“Enlighten me,” the Angel replied, emotionless.

“The big lie -- the Winchesters still buy it,” Crowley mused. ”The good Cas, the righteous Cas. And long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore.” Castiel's eyes grew darker as he slammed Crowley against the wall.

“I'm only gonna say this once. If you touch a hair on their heads, I will tear it all down. Our arrangement -- everything. I'm still an Angel, and I will bury you.” he snarled.

“This is not how synergy works!” Crowley yelled.

“I don't care! Do not hurt them,” Castiel snarled. His eyes seemed to glow white with anger. The emotion of protectiveness was growing. He let the demon go, and with a flutter of invisible wings, the Angel was gone.

~*~

"My Lord," said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, "you must not do this." She sat beside her sister, as unlike her in looks, with her dark hair and heavily lidded eyes, as she was in bearing and demeanor; where Narcissa sat rigid and impassive. Bellatrix leaned toward Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.  
"Bellatrix, I hear an event has taken place in your family this week?" She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused.  
"I don't know what you mean, my Lord.”

  
"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud," Voldemort sneered. There was an eruption of laughter from around the table. Bellatrix's face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.  
"She is no niece of ours, my Lord," she cried over the outpouring of mirth. "We, Narcissa and I, have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries." 

  
  


"Enough," said Voldemort, stroking the angry snake. "Enough."The laughter died at once.  
"Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring, "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest. It is exactly why Potter and the Muggles must perish. They are a disgrace to us."  
"Yes, my Lord," whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. "At the first chance!"  
"You shall have it," said Voldemort. "And in your family, so in the world ... we shall cut away the cancer that infects us until only those of the true blood remain …" Voldemort raised his wand and gave it a tiny flick.A figure floated into the room and came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds.  
"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside down face. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!"

  
"Ah, yes," said Snape coldly as the prisoner turned slowly away again.  
"And you, Draco?" asked Voldemort, stroking the Nagini's snout with his wand-free hand. Draco shook his head jerkily.   
"But you would not have taken her classes," said Voldemort. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
"Yes ... Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles ... how they are not so different from us …" One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape again.  
  
  


"Severus ... please ... please …"  
"Silence," said Voldemort. There was no mistaking the anger and contempt in Voldemort's voice. For the third time, Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape. Tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair. Snape looked back at her, quite impassive, as she turned slowly away from him again.  
"Avada Kedavra" The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs. Draco fell out of his onto the floor.  
"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly. “As for the Winchesters and Potter. They will die.”


	10. The First Class

**Chapter 10**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 2 nd September**

Sunlight streamed through the old Victorian style windows and glowed against the pale carpet. A lone pale figure stood facing the slightly cracked mirror. Dean dragged the razor over his stubble gently, ever so cautious. He was wearing only his boxers. As he dragged the razor over the stubble speckled skin, he grimaced as the razor caught, tearing his skin slightly. Blood oozed from the tiny cut. Hazel green eyes met his reflection as he held the razor tight. The memory flooded his mind. His 'accident' wasn't an accident like he had told Sam. He had planned it.

 

_It had been three months after Sam's death. He heard as Ben shouted goodbye to him and Lisa was downstairs, cleaning after Dean had made breakfast. He looked at the reflection in the mirror, and took a deep breath. He couldn't do this anymore. It seemed cowardly, but, damn it, he was going to die at some point anyway. He lifted the razor with slightly trembling fingers, and his hazel green irises shifted to the piece of paper that simply said, I'm sorry Lisa, Ben. He dragged the razor from the inside of his arm, along the inside to his wrist. Blood poured. He knew from many years of hunting, about how dangerous these injuries could be. He looked as his skin became paler in the mirror, and saw his eyes roll back slightly before his vision darkened._

_He had woken later, to a panicked and crying Lisa who was beside him, pushing a towel to his arm, attempting to stop the bleeding. He could hear her on the phone with what he guessed was 911. He passed out again and he was in a white room the next time he woke. Ben and Lisa were at his side. He had only found out later that Ben had been under the impression that Dean had been fixing something with the van and had injured himself._

 

Dean came back to himself to hear a knocking at the door.

“What Sammy?” he called.

“Come on, I got a message that we have to be at Dumbledore's office,” his youngest brother replied.

“Why does the big man want to see us?” Dean asked as they walked down the halls a few minutes later.

“I don’t know, Jess just flew into the window this morning with a note saying to come to Dumbledore’s office and the words ‘ _Sherbet Lemon_ ’ were written underneath it.”

“Sherbet Lemon? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know Dean. Maybe we need it for some reason.”

“Whatever man, I just know that if we are in trouble for something, I’m blaming it on you.”

They walked down the halls using the instructions that were on the slip of paper from Jess, getting strange looks from all the students because they were the only ones not wearing the traditional school robes. They finally reached a golden statue of an eagle with its wings forming a halo there was a path to the right and to the left of the statue. Sam looked down at the paper and then looked down both paths and looked at the paper again.

“Come on Sherlock, where do we go next?” Dean asked in an irritated tone.

“I don’t know man, it doesn’t say.”

“Come on.” Dean looked at his brother sceptically. “Let me see it.”

Sam handed it to Dean. “If you can figure it out, then be my guest.”

Dean mumbled to himself as he read the note. “... When you come to the bronze eagle walk up the staircase.” He looked around. “Where is the staircase?”

“That’s what I would like to know Watson.” Sam smirked.

“Man, I’m really starting to hate these wizards. Everything has to be in code or riddles.”

“A code?” Sam repeated his brother’s words. Just out of curiosity he approached the statue, stepped inside and said “Sherbet Lemon.”

The floors started to shake and then the bronze eagle started to turn and stairs began to form beneath Sam’s feet, he started laughing.

“Nerd.” Dean muttered as he followed after Sam.

At the top of the staircase was a large wooden door with several carvings in it.

“I wonder if this door needs a password too.” Dean asked sarcastically. “Open Sesame!”

The door didn’t budge. Sam sighed as he went to try the knob and the door swung inward.

“What?” Dean followed him inside. “If you can use Sherbet Lemon to make a magical staircase appear then it is perfectly within my rights to use Open Sesame on a door!”

They looked around the room. No one seemed to be in there so they started to snoop.

“It looks like some pretty expensive things in here.” Sam commented. “Why would they leave the door to a room like this unlocked?” He saw a vat of swirling liquid that was glowing and walked over to it.

“Isn’t it obvious Sammy?” Dean smirked eyeing a bowl of black liquorice sitting on one of the tables. “They don’t need locks and keys when they have awesome riddles and passwords like ‘Sherbet Lemon’.” Just as he went to grab some liquorice, they sprang to life and started biting his hand.

 

“Ow! What the hell man?” Dean pulled back his hand and it was covered with tiny bite marks.

“Oh I forgot to warn you about those Liquorish Snaps.” A voice called to them. “They have a bite to them.”

Sam and Dean turned to see Dumbledore sitting at his desk.

“We’re sorry Professor.” Sam walked up the stairs. “The door was open and…”

Dumbledore put up a hand to stop him. “It’s quite alright Mr. Winchester. A healthy dose of curiosity never hurt anyone.”

“Obviously you’ve never heard the phrase ‘curiosity kills the cat’.” Dean laughed.

“Dean.” Sam chided him. “He’s our boss.”

“Oh Dean was only having some fun.” Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked over to the boys. “I don’t mind in the slightest.”

“You have a very interesting office, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Sam went back to admiring the vat of glowing liquid.

“Thank you very much, though it’s not all mine, several of these pieces were put in by the headmasters before me. But that there,” Dumbledore said pointing to the object of Sam’s stare. “is one of my most prized possessions.”

“What is it?” Dean became interested in the vat himself.

“It’s called a Pensieve. I sometimes find that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind. I’m sure you know the feeling.”

 

“Yea tell me about it.” Dean sighed. “So what does it do?”

“It’s a magical instrument used to view memories. You just have to remember a certain memory and then…” He pulled out his wand and put it to his temple. He made a painful face and pulled his wand away. Sam and Dean watched wide eyed as the wand tip was illuminated and it was almost as if a glowing string was attached to it and was being pulled from his temple. The glowing string was about a foot long and then it detached from his temple and hung loosely from the wand.

“That’s so gross.” Dean put his hand over his mouth for fear of throwing up.

“This is what a memory looks like.” Dumbledore held up the glowing string for them both to see. “Then you simply drop the memory into the Pensieve.”

He tapped the wand over the top of the Pensive and the string detached itself from the wand and dropped down into the swirling liquid.

“Then you just lean over the pensive and you can view the memory.” Sam leaned over the Pensieve, forcing Dean to join him. They couldn’t see anything so they looked back at Dumbledore but he wasn’t there.

“Where’d he go?” Dean looked around alarmed.

“I don’t know.” Sam looked towards the door and he was shocked to see himself entering the door.

“ _ **What?” Dean followed him inside. “If you can use Sherbet Lemon to make a magical staircase appear then it is perfectly within my rights to use Open Sesame on a door!”**_

“Sam? What am I looking at?” Dean’s voice raised in pitch as he watched himself walking across the room.

“I don’t know! It’s like a memory of us.” Sam replied. “Maybe this is what Dumbledore saw when we came in.”

 “ _ **Isn’t it obvious Sammy? They don’t need locks and keys when they have awesome riddles and passwords like ‘Sherbet Lemon’.”**_

“Oh, no! Man don’t do it!” Dean tried to stop himself from getting bitten but he just phased through himself.

“What the-” Dean looked down and he was stuck in the middle of the table. “It’s like were ghosts or something.”

“ _ **Ow! What the hell man?”**_

“Is that what my hair looks like from the back?” Dean checked himself out as he walked around himself.

Then their vision went blurry and they came back to the present, Dumbledore smiled at them.

“That’s amazing!” Sam said with a smile spreading across his face. “That would be amazing to use in our class. It’s hard to explain some of the things we have seen without showing the students what they look like.”

“I think it’s kind of creepy myself.” Dean commented. “But it would be a useful tool.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare lying around somewhere?” Sam asked.

“I don’t, but I could let you borrow this one, but I need it for my student's classes. I will send it to the Demonology classroom in a moment,” Dumbledore patted Sam on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” Sam smiled.

“So Headmaster, what did you want to talk to us about?” Dean asked.

“What are you talking about Mr. Winchester?”

“The note?” Dean pulled it out of his pocket and showed it to Dumbledore. “Our owl brought this note to us. Didn’t you see it?”

“Humm.” Dumbledore pondered over the small piece of paper. “I’m sorry, but this seems to be a mistake. I didn’t send this letter to you, I think someone is playing a practical joke on you.” He chuckled as he handed the paper back to them.

“Of course sir, we have to go,” Sam bowed his head as he walked to the door.

“Catch ya later Merlin!” Dean winked and clicked his tongue. They walked out.

“Good luck on your first day!” They heard Dumbledore call after them.

“Well that was just weird.” Dean stuck his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Tell me about it,” Sam replied. 

Around two hours passed. Sam and Dean had eaten breakfast in the Great Hall without much drama. Sam had rolled his eyes at his brother's eating habits and Dean had told him to shut his cake hole. Breakfast ended and the brothers rose.

“So we're teaching about Wendigos?” Dean asked. Sam nodded.

“Yeah, we have the sixth years first,” Sam said, looking at a piece of parchment. “I think we should show them the memory of our last hunt with one,” Sam said. Dean whistled.

“Our last hunt with one was when we were looking for Dad,” the elder Winchester answered.

“I know. I think it's better it they see for themselves, ” Sam pointed out.

“I knew that Stanford brain would come in handy,” Dean smirked as they walked up the moving staircases. Sam rolled his eyes as Dean continued.

“This place is so weird,” he said, looking at the moving portraits.

“True,” Sam noted. “The classroom is on the second floor, along with Muggle Studies.” Dean snorted in amusement. They had reached the door now, and opened it to reveal around twenty five students. Some were wearing red and black robes, some green and black. The chatter stopped immediately as they walked to the top of the class. Sam and Dean noticed that the Pensieve lay at the front of the large room.

“Shut it,” Dean said easily, causing the few that were muttering to quieten. 

 

“As you all know, this is Demonology. Here, you'll study things that would make your skin crawl. You'll train to fight these creatures, how to kill them, and most importantly, how to stay alive,” Sam began. He noticed that all eyes were locked on him. 

 

“This class is no joke. This is serious, life or death is the price you'll pay. If you screw up, someone could die. You gotta keep focused. Believe you me, you'll see Voldemort as a cakewalk compared to what you're all going to learn in this class.”

“Take it easy Dean,” Sam cautioned.

“They gotta know,” Dean shrugged. “Kay, today, we're gonna be studying Wendigos. Anyone know what that is?” A hand shot up and he recognised the bushy haired brunette from the train.

“Name?” Sam asked.

“Hermione Granger sir,” she answered. 

“Okay, what's a Wendigo then?” Sam asked.

“A Wendigo is a creature that was once human but was transformed into an immortal evil spirit when it took up the practice of cannibalism.,” she answered.

“Exactly.” Sam nodded.

“Wendigos used to be humans who turned to cannibalism and eventually turned into a supernatural creature because of it.” Dean continued. Many students looked slightly revolted. 

“Take out your books everyone and go to page 173,” he said and everyone got their books opened as the ruffling of material and swishing of paper sounded through the room.

Sam opened _Supernatural Beasts and Defence._ He rifled through it and found the chapter on Wendigos.

 

“ _Wendigos are believed to live in the northern woods of Minnesota and in the north central regions of Canada . Kenora, Ontario, Canada, has been given the title of Wendigo Capital of the World by many. Sightings of the creature in this area have continued well into the new millennium._

 _Wendigos are generally rumoured to be gigantic spirits, over fifteen feet tall, lanky and with glowing eyes, long yellowed fangs, terrible claws and overly long tongues. Sometimes they are said to have a sallow, yellowish skin; other times they are described as being matted with hair. The Wendigo's full powers have never been recorded. The creature excels at stealth and is a near-perfect hunter, knowing and using every inch of its territory – caves, hills, trees and bushes. Some stories posit that Wendigos can control the weather through the use of dark magic,_ ” he read.

  
  


“Wendigos are powerful sons of b-” Dean began but Sam gave him a sharp look.

“As my brother so politely put it, Wendigos are powerful. They have supernatural strength, speed, are immortal. They have claws, and can imitate human voices to lure people in,” Sam explained. He continued on.

The students were sitting uncomfortably reading along with the brothers, the only other sounds you could hear was the frantic scribbling of someone trying to transcribe every word that Dean and Sam were saying.

“Now we think that the best way for you to learn about them is to experience an attack first hand.” Dean continued.

The pale blond kid from the train raised his hand.

“Yes, and your name is?” Sam asked.

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped. “If these things come from _your_ country, then how are we supposed to see one in person? And isn’t it dangerous to ‘experience an attack first hand.’?”

Dean was about to tell the kid off but Sam restrained him.

“Um….” Sam scrolled down the list of names and finally found the boy’s name. “Mr. Malfoy, to answer your question, the headmaster has allowed us to borrow a Pensieve.”

The students started whispering amongst themselves one look from Dean silenced them all.

“A Pensieve allows us to show you memories from our pasts, showing you all the things that we will be discussing without anyone getting harmed by the thing itself.”

“Wait till my father hears about this.” The pale blonde boy glowered as he sat back down.

“Sam, I think your memory of the Wendigo is better than mine, I came in at the tail end, so why don’t we use your memory of it?”

“Alright, that’s ok with me.” Sam addressed the students. “This will take some time to set up, so read the rest of the chapter about Wendigo’s while we get things started.”

They started reading and Sam pulled out his wand.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Sam put the wand up to his temple, concentrated on the memory of the Wendigo, and started pulling the wand away from his temple.

“That’s still gross.” Dean commented as Sam stared in amazement.

“Shut up, you just wanted me to go first because you are afraid of it.”

“Yea, well, it’s…” Dean couldn’t come up with a good reason so he just let it drop. “Oh, forget it, just get that oversized glow worm into the pot and get to cookin’ already.”

With a few more minutes all the students had finished the chapter and were looking at Sam and Dean expectantly.

“Ok, I’m going to give you guys a set up for the memory that we are about to show you.” Sam addressed them. “Our Dad had sent us coordinates through a journal that he kept and these coordinates lead us to Blackwater Ridge in Lost Creek Colorado. At first we were confused, as there’s nothing out there but woods and we couldn’t figure out why he would send us out in the middle of nowhere.”

“But we didn’t argue with him, there was a job to do and we were the ones tasked to do it.” Dean cut in.

“We ended up at a ranger’s station and started asking questions.” Sam said with irritation.

“That’s the first rule of demon hunting, get intel and check the facts.”

Sam just looked at Dean without continuing.

“What?” Then it dawned on Dean, “Oh I’m sorry, was I interrupting your boring narrative?”

Sam rolled his eyes and continued. “The second thing about demon hunting is letting your source of information do the asking first. For instance in this particular case, the ranger thought we were hikers planning a trip into Blackwater Ridge.”

“Third rule: Lie.” Dean smirked. “It comes with the territory of the job to tell white lies every now and then. We told the ranger that we were environmental study majors from the local university.”

“But we were caught in our lie, sometimes that happens, but sometimes it’s a good thing because it leads us to who we need to talk to.”

“The ranger asks us if we are friends with a local girl whose brother has gone missing. We told him that we were and he told us that her brother had filled out a back country permit and would be coming home in a few days so it wasn’t technically a missing person’s report yet.” Dean said.

“So we went to the girl’s house and talked to her, to get more information about what we were dealing with. When she answered the door we told her that we were with Park Services and that we wanted to ask her some questions.”

Dean took over again. “She asked for some identification, smart girl.” He remarked. “Another occupational hazard is the fact that you have to make a lot of fake I.D.’s”

“She let us in and we found out that her brother had been sending her video updates every day of his trip and that she hadn’t heard from him in three days.”

“Sounds a little suspicious huh?” Dean cut in. “We tried to explain it in human terms, like he couldn’t get cell reception, or just simply forgetting to check in, but she shot them all down. So the only logical explanation is that something supernatural is happening.”

“Part four is collecting information and looking for patterns. I asked the girl to forward all of this to me and I did my usual information sweep, looking for any record of activity that would indicate a pattern, such as two hikers going missing from the same place: Blackwater Ridge. The two hikers were never found.  And in some cases you have to go back further in the history of the place to find a pattern. We found out that this particular culprit attacks every twenty three years, like clockwork.”

“We then pulled up the missing kid’s videos and Sam showed me the black shadow that he saw earlier frame by frame. It only took up three frames, a fraction of a second, so it could move and move fast.”

“During our research we came across the lone survivor of one of these attacks, the only one who lived to tell the tale. When we approached him about it he was wary at first, thinking we wouldn’t believe him but we got him to trust us. He said that it moved to fast to identify it and the only thing he could hear was a roar like he had never heard before, it came at night, unlocked the door to his cabin and killed his parents, dragging them off into the night.”

“He also showed us the parting gift that the creature gave him.” Dean’s face turned grim. “He had three long scars running from his neck down into his chest.”

The student’s faces contorted with uneasiness.

“So can anyone tell us, just based off the information that we have given you, more about the Wendigo?” Sam looked at the students.

Hermione’s hand shot up again.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“A Wendigo is fast paced being that is corporeal and hunts every 23 years.”

“Good.” Dean congratulated her, with a knowing look to his brother when the young girl said ‘corporeal’. “We thought at first that it could have been a skinwalker or a black dog, both of which we will be discussing later, but we came to the conclusion that it was a creature, not a spirit or demon and we could kill it.”

“So now we move to step five: hunting.” Sam began again. “We gathered up our guns, fresh with everything from silver and iron bullets down to rock salt shells, met up with the girl, her other brother, and a guide that she had hired.”

“Yea, and what a brilliant idea that turned out to be.” Dean muttered.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Eventually we found the missing kid’s campsite, it had been torn apart and blood was everywhere. The guide automatically classifies it as a grizzly attack. I spotted a clue that the others didn’t see; the bodies were dragged away from the camp site, ruling out skinwalker’s and black dogs.”

Dean picked up the story. “Then a voice called out luring us away from the camp-site where all the other’s gear was stashed. We couldn’t find anything and went back to the camp-site to find that the gear was missing. It wanted us to be cut off from the outside so that we couldn’t call for help.”

“I asked to see our dad’s journal one more time.” Sam continued. “I found what I was looking for.” He pulled out the book in question and flipped to the dog-eared page. “Wendigo’s are known to have large claws, big enough to leave the scars on our only eye witness, and it can mimic a human voice, like it did to lure us away from camp, and they are perfect hunters good by day, unbelievable by night.”

“So we move to step six, optional depending on the situation: protection. There are several ways to protect yourself other than using a gun.” Dean remarked. “Things such as signs and symbols ward off certain supernatural beings; in this case it was Anasazi symbols. Wendigo’s can’t cross over them.”

“So now that you have the back story we are going to proceed into the memory. Everyone get into a single file line and follow me into the Pensieve, Dean is going to be the last one in so we can make sure that everyone makes it in ok.”

The students approached the front of the classroom and formed a single file line. Sam leaned over into the Pensieve and disappeared, and the other student’s followed accordingly. Malfoy and his cronies were the last to go in followed closely behind by Dean.

The next thing Dean knew he was back in Blackwater, except this time there were two Dean’s, two Sam’s and a whole group of sixth year student’s.

“Now please remember that this is a memory, we are more like ghosts in this place, no one can see you or hear you. So don’t be afraid, nothing is going to hurt you.” Sam reassured them.

The memory had started about where the brothers were explaining to the siblings of the missing guy about Wendigo’s and their cannibalistic qualities.

 

“ _ **How’s a man turn into one of those things?” the girl asked.**_

“ _ **Well, it’s always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.”**_

“ _ **Like the Donner Party.” The young boy commented.**_

“ _ **Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality.” Sam rattled off a few of the benefits.**_

“ _ **If you eat enough of it, over the years, you become this less than human thing. You’re always hungry.” Dean said.**_

“ _ **So if that’s true, how can Tommy still be alive?” The girl asked without much hope.**_

“ _ **You’re not gonna like it.” Dean made a uncomfortable face.**_

“ _ **Tell me.”**_

“ _ **More than anything, a Wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it’s awake it keeps victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother’s alive, it’s keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.”**_

“ _ **And then how do we stop it?” She asked.**_

“ _ **Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically, we gotta torch the sucker.” Dean replied brandishing a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and a white cloth he’d picked up.**_

The scene changed then to the group tracking the Wendigo. They noticed several bloody claw marks adorning the trees

_**Sam called out to his brother. “You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They are almost too easy to follow.”** _

_**Just then a growl ripped through the forest. Then the guides lifeless body is dropped down to the forest floor from somewhere above the group. Dean tells them all to run. The young boy and Sam go in one direction and the girl and Dean went the other way. The Wendigo captured Dean and the girl and Sam picks up the Molotov cocktail, that they were going to use to set the Wendigo on fire, and the bottle was broken.** _

 

The scene changed again. Sam and the young boy were searching for the trail that would take them to the Wendigo’s lair. They found a trail of peanut M&M’s that they thought Dean had left behind for them to follow. And they eventually found it: an abandoned mine.

 

_**Sam shined a flashlight ahead of them. From the depths of the mine the Wendigo’s growl could be heard. Sam pulls the boy against the wall and covers his mouth before he can scream. The Wendigo turns down a different tunnel and they keep going down the tunnel that it had come from. There was a weak spot in the floorboards and the boys fell through the floor, landing in a pile of discarded bones. The young boy starts to freak out and Sam tries to calm him down. Then they spot Dean and the girl hanging by their wrists from the ceiling.** _

“ _ **Dean!” Sam rushed to his brother.**_

“ _ **Haley, wake up!” the boy went to untie his sister.**_

“ _ **Dean!” Sam starts to shake him and he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you okay?”**_

“ _ **Yeah.” Dean replied.**_

“ _ **Haley, Haley wake up!” The boy tried again to get his sister to wake up.**_

_**Eventually they get them down and put them on the ground.** _

“ _ **You sure you’re all right?” Sam noticed that Dean was making painful noises and contorting his face in pain.**_

“ _ **Yeah. Where is he?” Dean asked.**_

“ _ **He’s gone for now.”**_

_**Haley notices her older brother hanging and starts crying. They desperately try to wake him up and cut him down. He eventually wakes up but is very weak.** _

_**Dean spotted the stolen supplies and picks up some flare guns.** _

“ _ **Those’ll work.” Sam commented as Dean tossed him one.**_

_**They headed down the tunnel towards the exit, Dean and Sam in the lead with the flare guns and the girl with her brother’s in the back. They hear the Wendigo growling.** _

“ _ **Looks like someone’s home for supper.” Dean remarked.**_

“ _ **We’ll never outrun it.” The girl said looking to her older brother who was limping and leaning on his siblings for support.**_

_**Dean looked at the siblings, then at Sam. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”** _

“ _ **Yeah, I think so.”**_

“ _ **Alright listen to me. Stay with Sam. He’s gonna get you out of here.” Dean told them.**_

“ _ **What are you going to do?” The girl asked him.**_

_**Dean winked at her, turned and started running and yelling. “Chow time, you freaky bastard!”** _

 

“Classy, as always, Dean.” Sam remarked.

“Thank you.”

 

“ _ **All right come on! Hurry!” Sam lead them down the tunnel. But soon they are confronted with the Wendigo’s growling. Sam pointed the gun at it and said, “Get him out of here!”**_

“ _ **Sam, no.” The girl insisted.**_

“ _ **Go!**_ **Go!** _ **Go!” He urged them.**_

_**They took off running towards the sunlight.** _

“ _ **Come on. Come on.” He muttered as he waited for the Wendigo to appear. He heard the growl again and turned to see the Wendigo right in his face. He shot it and missed then ran towards the exit. He caught up with the others at the end of the tunnel with the Wendigo right behind them. “Get behind me.” He told the others.**_

_**The Wendigo approaches them, taking its time. It didn’t see Dean come up from behind.** _

“ _ **Hey!” Dean yelled to get its attention. As it turned, Dean fired his flare gun at the Wendigo’s stomach, the flare went off and the Wendigo went up in flames. “Not bad, huh?” and he grinned.**_

The scene went blurry and then they were back in the classroom, the students were gathered at the front of the classroom with an odd mixture of awe and shock on their faces.

“After that we got the siblings back to the ranger’s station and they called the police. We told the kids to lie to the police, otherwise they would have been sent to the patty-wagon for being loons.” Dean told the group.

“That pretty much sums it up.” Sam sighed. “I know it’s a lot to absorb in one setting but you get the idea that this stuff is serious.”

“And Wendigo’s are one of the easier things we have faced.” Dean remarked.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today.” Sam addressed the group. “For homework tonight write down the six steps to finding a supernatural monster and how to spot a Wendigo from the patterns we described.”

The whole class sighed and went back to their desks, with the exception of Hermione Granger who smiled brightly and ran back to her desk as if she wanted to start this assignment straight away.

“She strikes me as your type Sammy.” Dean commented as she walked out with the rest of the class. “Nerdy and obnoxious.”

  
  



	11. Of Hellhounds and Bad Days

**Chapter 11**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 2 nd November**

Weeks passed and Sam and Dean Winchester began to settle into their jobs. They conversed with staff, taught their students and did what they needed to do. Their classes had been basic, and they had both decided that they needed to take it up a notch.

“I think we need to teach them about Hellhounds,” Sam said suddenly. Dean looked up in surprise.

“What? Isn't a bit early for that Sammy?” he asked. Sam shook his head.

“Dean these kids need to be taught what _not_ to do as well as what to do. We need to warn them of what can happen if they make a deal.”

“How would they even know how to make one?” Dean asked incredulously.

“People make deals without knowing all the time Dean,” Sam pointed out. Dean sighed.

“I'm guessing that we're gonna show them my crossroads deal?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sam replied quietly.

“We can't show them me getting killed by the Hellhounds,” Dean said, “Kids shouldn't see people die.”

“I know Dean. I'm sure we can skip that part,” Sam said. “I read up on it. Apparently, if you focus while in a memory, you can skip ahead and skip to different people's memories,” he explained.

“Oh right. I guess that could work. You're right. The kids need to be warned,” Dean said, albeit frowning.

“Yeah, come on, we have to get ready for class,” Sam said, turning to the Pensieve. Dumbledore had been able to get another Pensieve for them to use for class and Sam and Dean had accepted gratefully, and gave him back his own. 

 

“Do you want to do it?” Sam asked. “We're gonna have to explain what actually happened, with me dying, or do you want to show the memory?” 

“I don't really want to, but alright. I'm gonna have to show my memory of making the deal anyway,” Dean replied as he opened _Supernatural Beasts and Defence._ He turned to page 394 and stared at the word _Hellhounds_ in bold print. Something so simple, but the word sent a shiver down his spine. He pulled out the temporary wand and held it to his temple.

“I still don't get how we're supposed to be able to use these,” Dean said.

 

“Well there's been stories that Muggles have stolen wands and performed magic with them,” Sam said. Dean wasn't listening. He concentrated on the memory of those few days, his deal and death. He saw the silver strand come from his temple and swirl into the bowl.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Hey, what do you wanna do later?”

“I dunno,” Dean replied. It was November second, a day they dreaded every year. Their mother's and Jessica's death on the same say but twenty two years apart. It was always a hard time for both brothers. The warning bell for class sounded, interrupting them.

“Time to shine,” Dean muttered bitterly. Students filed in and sat quickly. 

 

“Hey guys,” Dean said with a lazy wave of his hand. Sam turned.

“Open your books and turn to page 394,” he said. A few students smiled.

“Hellhounds sir?” Hermione Granger asked.

“Yeah, anyone know what they are?” Dean asked. None of the students answered.

“Well before looking at Hellhounds, you have to look at demon deals,” Sam went on. “Demons deal with people for different things, wealth, love or raising a loved one from the dead.” A hand shot up.

“Yes?” Sam asked.

“People can come back from the dead?” the red headed boy asked in shock

“What's your name?” Dean asked.

“Ron Weasley,” the redhead answered.

“People can come back from the dead. They're brought back, as I said, by demon deals that are normally done at a crossroads. An exchange of the person's soul is taken for the deal,” Dean told the class. “They usually get around ten years, and Hellhounds come. They tear the soul from the body and drag it to Hell,” he said, the memory of the Hell dog's claws ripping into him floating in his head.

 

“We're giving you these details to prevent a deal being made,” Dean went on. “The possibility could come up where you could make a crossroads deal, but we want to inform you of the peril it causes.” 

“We'd like to show you a memory. Sam do you wanna elaborate on what happened?” Dean asked. Sam sighed.

“A couple of years ago, I was kidnapped by the demon that killed our mother. He made the others that were like me fight to the death and the winner would lead a demon army. Soon enough it was only me and a guy called Jake left. I fought him and knocked him out.” _Well I thought I did,_ Sam thought bitterly. “I heard Dean and our Dad's friend Bobby calling. I was walking towards them and I felt a pain and I didn't remember anything after that.”

“Jake had sneaked up behind Sam and stabbed him in the back, severing his spinal cord. He was dead in about a minute. I made a deal to bring him back.” Dean explained. Everyone was quiet, not daring to speak.

“Everyone get in a line,” Sam instructed. The students rose, getting in a single file line quietly. One by one they entered the Pensieve. When the boys joined their students, they were standing in a run down cabin.

_**Dean was standing next to Sam's dead body that was lying on an old mattress. They saw a middle aged man come in, holding a bucket of chicken.** _

“ _ **Dean?” he called in a soft tone. “Brought you this back.” Dean didn't move.**_

“ _ **No, thanks. I'm fine,” he said.**_

The students noticed Dean's emotionless voice. He had sounded dead himself.

“ _ **You should eat something,” Bobby replied in a concerned tone.**_

“ _ **I said I'm fine,” he said harshly. He turned, and took a swig of whiskey. Bobby examined him closely,**_

“ _ **Dean...I hate to bring this up, I really do,” Bobby began and took a deep breath. “But don't you think maybe it's time...we bury Sam?”**_

“ _ **No,” Dean replied coldly.**_

“ _ **We could,” Bobby said and sighed. “Maybe...”**_

“ _ **What? Torch his corpse? Not yet,” Dean said, looking up at Bobby with a heartbroken gaze.**_

“ _ **Dean, please,” Bobby begged.**_

“ _ **Would you cut me some slack?” Dean snapped.**_

“ _ **I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. I gotta admit-- I could use your help,” Bobby replied softly. Dean snorted.**_

“ _ **Something big is going down-- end-of-the world big,” Bobby pressed.**_

Sam looked worried.

“ _ **Well, then let it end!” Dean yelled suddenly.**_

The students looked at the scene with sympathetic and wide eyes.

“ _ **You don't mean that,” Bobby replied. Dean rose from his seat and approached him,**_

“ _ **You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough?” he said and his eyes shifted to the body in the other room for half a second. “I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, turn around, and get the hell out of here.” Bobby didn't move.**_

“ _ **Go!” he yelled, pushing Bobby. His face softened slightly. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just go.”**_

“ _ **You know where I'll be,” said Bobby sighing. He turned his back on Dean and left the cabin. Dean took another look at Sam's body and a tear fell from his eye.**_

The scene changed. Dean was alone in the centre of a crossroads, looking around. There was nothing but the Impala behind him. He was turning around impatiently.

“ _ **Oh come on already. Show your face, you bitch!” he yelled. Suddenly, a beautiful woman in a black dress appeared.**_

“ _ **Easy sugar, you'll wake the neighbours,” she said with a smile and her eyes glowed red before turning back to normal. “Dean. It's so, so good to see you.” she inhaled sharply. “I mean it. Look at you. Gone and got your family killed. All alone in the world. It's too sweet. Excuse me, you're gonna have to give me a moment. Sometimes you gotta stop and smell the roses.”**_

Sam scowled.

“That bitch,” he muttered. Dean smiled a little.

“ _ **I should send you straight back to hell,” Dean said menacingly.**_

“ _ **Oh, you should,” the demon said mockingly. “But you won't. And I know why.”**_

“ _ **Oh yeah?” Dean challenged.**_

“ _ **Yeah. Following in Daddy's footsteps. You wanna make a deal. Little Sammy back from the dead, and--let me guess-- you're offering up your own soul?”**_

Sam flinched.

“ _ **There are a hundred other demons who'd love to get their hands on it. And it's all yours. And all you got to do is bring Sam back. And give me ten years-- ten years, and then you come for me,” Dean declared. The demon smiled**_

“ _ **You must be joking,” she chuckled.**_

“ _ **That's the same deal you give everybody else,” Dean protested.**_

“ _ **You're not everybody else,” she said as she walked up to Dean. “Why would I want to give you anything? Keep your gutter soul. It's too tarnished, anyway.” she whispered in his ear.**_

“ _ **Nine years.”**_

“ _ **No,” the demon smiled.**_

“ _ **Eight.”**_

“ _ **You keep going, I'll keep saying no,” she replied casually.**_

“ _ **Okay, five years. Five years, and my bill comes due. That's my last offer-- five years or no deal,” Dean bargained.**_

_**The demon leaned in for a kiss and then smiled. “Then no deal.”** _

“ _ **Fine,” Dean said simply.**_

“ _ **Fine,” she said walking away. “Make sure you bury Sam before he starts stinking up the joint.”**_

“Bitch,” Sam and Dean muttered together.

“ _ **Wait,” Dean said and the demon stopped, smiling.**_

“ _ **It's a fire sale, and everything must go,” she said softly.**_

“ _ **What do I have to do?” Dean begged.**_

“ _ **First of all, quit grovelling. Needy guys are such a turn-off.” she sighed. “Look... Look, I shouldn't be doing this. I could get in a lot of trouble. But what can I say? I got a blind spot for you, Dean. You're like a... puppy. You're just too fun to play with.” She sighed again. “I'll do it.”**_

“ _ **You'll bring him back?” Dean asked.**_

“ _ **I will. And because I'm such a saint, I'll give you one year. And one year only. But here's the thing. If you try and welch or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Sam drops dead. He's back to rotten meat in no time. So... it's a better deal than your dad ever got. What do you say?” Dean grabbed the demon and kissed her to seal the deal.**_

“That was around the time I woke up,” Sam said. The scene shifted and Dean flinched a little. “This memory will be edited a little, taking out the Hellhound's attack. You'll still be able to see the after effects.”

_**They were in a normal looking office, but Sam was in the corner of the room, hands moving from his face. Dean lay a couple of feet away, his eyes glassy and unseeing. His stomach was torn open, along with his leg and shoulder. Sam rose slowly. He looked towards the blonde woman.** _

“Crap.. I looked bad,” Dean winced. 

“ _ **Back,” she said, clearly afraid.**_ _ **Sam took a breath and started walking towards her.**_ _ **  
“**_ _ **I said, back,” Lilith said louder. Sam had a determined look on his face. He bent down and picked up Ruby's knife. Lilith looked very afraid of him now. Sam just looked determined and hateful.**_ _ **  
“**_ __ **I don't think so,” Sam said coldly, but before he could stab her, a cloud of black smoke came spurting from her mouth as she screamed. The smoke shot through the vents and the now empty body fell to the ground, dead. Sam turned and looked at Dean.**

The students and Winchesters saw as Sam approached his dead brother and lifted his head gently.

“ _ **Dean,” he sobbed and his head bowed.**_

The memory blurred once again and they were in a field. 

_**There were fallen trees in a circular shape with a small wooden cross as it's centre.** _

The students watched in confusion.

“This was about four months later,” Dean said simply.

_**A few fingers began clambering through the surface of the soil and several people gasped. The hands grasped, coming higher. Wrists, elbows, and then head. Dean's head broke through the surface and Dean gasped, sucking in air and he grunted, pulling himself out, He crawled lay there in the grass.** _

The memory faded and blurred and the students found themselves back in the classroom. The students returned to their seats, shocked by what they had just witnessed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Well that was certainly interesting.” Harry commented as they left the classroom.

“I can’t believe they showed us that.” Hermione made a face. “It was painful to watch.”

“Think about them, they had to live it.” Ron grimaced as he remembered seeing Professor Dean’s stomach split open. “That Hellhound sounds like a right nasty piece of work.”

“And supposedly you can’t even see them.” Hermione remarked, pulling out her book and turning to page 394 and showed them the chapter head. “See? There is no pictorial reference in this book anywhere saying what the creature looks like.”

“Well how in the bloody hell are we supposed to fight something we can’t see?” Ron asked.

“Maybe we’ll find out in training tomorrow.” Harry shrugged his shoulders as they went into the great hall for lunch.

“So Harry, where do you disappear to every day?” Seamus questioned Harry.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about mate.” Ron snapped.

“It’s ok, Ron.” Harry put his hand on Ron’s shoulder. “I have a free study period.”

“Free study period?” Seamus asked incredulously. “How did you manage to get that?”

“I don’t know Seamus, maybe he actually is here to learn, not blow stuff up all the time.” Ron rebuked him. “Come on Harry, we’ll go find someone else to sit with.”

“What’s your problem Weasley?” Seamus looked at Ron like he’d grown an extra head. “It was just a simple question. There’s no need to get your wand in a twist.”

“One more remark like that and I’ll write you up.” Ron’s face was about the colour of his hair.

“Ron, that’s enough!” Hermione looked concerned for him.

“Come on man, let’s get out of here.” Harry had to pull Ron up from the bench.

“I’m tellin’ ya, give the kid a badge and suddenly he’s the wand police.” Seamus sniggered and some other fourth years around him started laughing too.

Harry had to restrain Ron from punching Seamus when they heard yelling from the head table and saw Snape and the Winchester’s having a fight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After seeing his death by Hellhounds, Dean spoke.

“Which one was that Sammy, my third or fourth death?” he had said jokingly to throw off how freaked he really was. It didn’t put Dean in a mood for eating. He also wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated by anyone. This was a hard day for both and they wanted things to be as quiet as possible. But when had any of their plans actually worked? As soon as they entered the Great Hall they saw Snape glaring at them from the head table. Sam noticed his brother’s reaction to the man. 

 

"Why do I have the feeling that this is going to end badly?" he asked rhetorically.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna start anything unless he does." Dean muttered darkly as he cracked his knuckles and psyched himself up like he was getting ready for a fight. Sam sighed and followed Dean to the head table.

"Professors." Dean greeted them with a smile.

"Good afternoon Messrs Winchester!" The short witch, Professor Sprout greeted them brightly.

Dean and Sam sat, lifting a glass and said solemnly and quietly. "To Mom."

"Mom," Dean agreed and clinked his glass. They heard Snape give a small scoff. That was enough to set Dean off.

"What is your problem man?" Dean snapped to Snape.

"I have no problem  _man_." Snape narrowed his eyes at them.

“I have no problem  _man_.” Snape narrowed his eyes at them.

“Well you must have something twisting your emo panties in a twist.” Dean retorted. “Because everyone else has welcomed us here with open arms except you, there for you must have a problem with us.”

 

“Dean, stop it.” Sam tried to restrain him but Dean shook him off. Snape put his fork down and turned to face them. 

“Some of us actually work to provide these students with a quality education teaching them fundamental skills that they will use in the future, not frolicking in the past fighting bogeymen.” He glowered.

 

“We are teaching these kids practical skills that won’t get them killed on the battle field.” Dean replied hotly. “In case you hadn’t noticed Voldemort is massing an army against you!”

By this time both men were standing and had an audience of not just the staff, but the student’s as well. The entire Great Hall had fallen silent.

“Or as the great and mighty Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor already know that?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to a Muggle like you!” Snape hissed.

“Why does everyone keep calling us Muggles?!” Dean looked back at his brother and then turned back to Snape. “I’m no different from you, we teach the same subjects, mine is just more active.”

Snape scowled. “We are nothing alike you swine!”

“What did you call me?” Dean said dangerously.

“Besides, what proof do we have that you two aren’t with He-who-must-not-be-named and are trying to undermine Hogwarts from the inside?” Snape continued idly.

“How dare you.” Sam cut in before Dean could respond. “We were asked to come here by _your_ people.”

“So keep your abnormally large nose out of our business!” Dean added as he turned to walk away, Sam followed.

Snape drew out his wand and said “Legilimens!” and a psychedelic transparent wave his Dean in the head and he crumpled to the floor.

“What the ell did you do?!” Sam roared as he picked Dean up.

Snape didn’t answer, he was concentrating on Dean’s memories. There were so many to choose from, so many deaths, so many murders, and so many vicious creatures.

A few seconds later Dean woke up in his brother’s arms with a concerned looking Madam Pomfrey checking his pulse.

“Did anyone get the number of that mac truck that hit me?” He asked weakly. “What happened to me?”

“He’ll be fine, he should be woozy for a few minutes. It’s a nasty side effect to the Legilimency spell.” Madam Pomfrey tilted Dean’s head up to examine his eyes.

“The what spell?” Sam asked.

“Legilimency spell.” She repeated. “It’s the spell used when teaching Occlumency, the art of magically closing one’s mind against such a spell.”

Dean spotted Snape sitting back down at his place and acting like the whole incident never happened.

“You’d better be lucky I’m seeing four of you right now, I don’t know which ass to kick.” Dean commented.

“Oh, Mr. Winchester, what a tangled web you weave.” Snape’s mouth turned into a sneer that was supposed to be a smile. “You certainly are a piece of work.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t see how you live with yourself day after day after all the terrible things that you have done.” Snape never looked down at him but continued to eat. “I mean, you try to protect your family, but end up getting them killed, you like, steal. You kill demons yet I see you’ve even had dealings with demons yourself.”

“It was to save my brother.” Dean snapped. “Would you have done any different?”

Snape’s fork hesitated as he contemplated his words but he quickly regained his ability to move and continued eating.

“We should probably get him up to the hospital wing.” Madam Pomfrey told Sam. “He may have an adverse reaction to the spell, I think we should keep him overnight as well, just to be careful.”

“Whatever you think is best Ma’am.” Sam helped Dean off of the floor and, shooting Snape one last bitter look, followed Madam Pomfrey out of the Great Hall and to the Hospital Wing.

“Great day this turned out to be,” Dean muttered bitterly.

“You really should try not get into more fights,” Sam said. “I don't blame you though, someone needs to knock some sense into him.”  
"Damn right," Dean scowled. He suddenly sighed. "Back there... I saw Mom," he admitted. "When she died."

"Bastard," Sam growled out. Dean nodded.

"Tell me about it," he said sadly.

  
  



	12. Curses and Discoveries

**Chapter 12**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 23 th December**

December came quickly to the students delight, and it brought with it the Hogsmeade break before Christmas. Sam and Dean Winchester were looking forward to it, They saw as the decorations were put up. Fantastic trees that reached the seemingly invisible ceiling of the Great Hall. Decorations where everywhere they looked, and it reminded Sam and Dean of their childhood Christmases. Sure, they had no money, and Dad was nearly always gone, but that didn't matter. Dean had always tried his best to make sure that his little brother had a good time. 

 

It took a while for the brothers to look at Severus Snape and not attack him. Dean and Sam were still angry of course. It seemed to them that Severus had just pushed it because he had seen what day it was in Dean's mind, and that infuriated them more. 

 

Plus now, the school was even more curious about them. They spoke in hushed whispers as they walked by, sharing what they knew. Even though they normally didn't give a damn what people said, it still bothered them slightly that they were the talk of the entire 1,000 population of students. They were so used to just slipping into the background. 

  
Despite all of that, they were having a good year so far. They had studied Wendigos, Rugarus, Shapeshifters, Vengeful Spirits, Skinwalkers, Hellhounds, Demons, Rawheads and they had just finished studying Wraiths. With two weeks studying each creature, apart from Demons, which required a month to cover everything; and with intense training that brought the students to near collapse, the brothers believed that they were doing well with their plan so far. They planned on studying Revenants after the Christmas break. 

 

They had also gotten in touch with Bobby by using Jess. The letter he had sent back had amused both brothers and to their surprise, Castiel had been there and wrote a part of the letter for them.

_Sam and Dean,_

_Bout damn time I hear from you two idgits. Hope you haven't killed anyone. Apart from that Snape sonovabitch. He's a freakin ass for doing that to ya Dean. Been a few cattle mutilations recently. We've been scoping it out. Demons have been swarming lately, and we don't know why. With Crowley, I guess they would be. He's a damn pain in the ass. Anyway, Feathers is here and he wants to say something. Damn Angels have no patience. By the way, got you two something for Christmas._

_Anyway, write back you two. I don't wanna have to come over there and kick your asses._

_Bobby._

Sam and Dean had snorted as they read the next part which was written in an elegant script.

 

_Hello Dean and Sam,_

_I am hoping you are well. Bobby seems to be wrong about Angels having no patience. Patience is a human emotion, which most Angels are unable to experience. Heaven has been in an uproar since the apparent absence of God. The Angels do not know what to do. Bobby is reading over my shoulder and telling me to be cheerful and not to be a “killjoy” although I am not sure what that means. The anniversary of the birth of Jesus is approaching and Bobby has decorated. It confuses me. Why would an Angel sit upon a coniferous tree? Angels are Warriors of God and it seems very illogical. Bobby has sent you some gifts along with this and he helped me choose them. My gifts are rings, carved with protection symbols. Bobby has bought Dean a leather jacket and you, Sam a book on law. I am hoping you are well. May the Holy Spirit give you strength._

_Castiel._

 

They had taken out their gifts. Castiel's rings were made of simple small curved bands that crossed over and connected to form a ring that had tiny black onyx gems along it. Along the inside, were protection symbols carved into it. Dean's new leather jacket was something he loved, yet his old one held symbolism for him. His father had given it to him. He knew it wasn't original and new, but who cares? It brought back the subconscious representation of him when he had taken the Dream Root. _I mean your car, that's Dad's. Your favourite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?_

 

Dean frowned. At least something good had come out of this mess. Harry Potter and his friends were now talking. It had been harry that had started it really. It hadn't been long after their Hellhound lesson, and Sam and Dean, while on the way back from the library (which where Sam had bugged Dean to go along with him) and found Harry on his own, holding a small fragment of mirror. 

 

They had asked him what was wrong and Harry had reluctantly explained that he had lost his godfather. They had talked to him for a while and after a while, the Winchester brothers and what some Hogwarts students called the _Golden Trio_ were becoming talkative. They knew how harry felt, being thrust into a war at a young age and feeling like the world lay on their shoulders.

 

So now it was the Hogsmeade break before Christmas. Sam and Dean walked outside with a smile.

Dean had, all the while grumbling, pulled the robes on that morning after Sam had convinced him that it was way too cold to just go out in his old leather jacket. They saw Harry, Ron and Hermione at the clock tower.

“Hey,” Dean greeted.

“Hi sirs,” Hermione smiled back.

“How are you guys doing?” Sam asked.

“Fine,” Hermione said, but her tone suggested anything but. Sam and Dean raised an eyebrow, but saw a blur of brown hair.

 

“WON WON!” a girl who they recognised as Lavender Brown screamed as she wrapped her arms around Ron's neck in a hug. Sam and Dean shared a smirk, getting it immediately. From the way Hermione was glaring daggers at Lavender's back, she was jealous. Extremely. Lavender pulled Ron away by the sleeve and Hermione watched them go with a scowl. 

“Don't mind them Hermione,” Sam said gently. Hermione sighed. 

Let's go to the Three Broomsticks," Harry suggested. "It'll be warm."

“Sure,” Sam and Dean shrugged.

“Might be able to pick up a few witches, eh Sammy?” Dean grinned, nudging his brother who was rolling his eyes.

  
The street was not very busy; nobody was lingering to chat, just hurrying toward their destinations. There were two men a little ahead of them, standing just outside the Three Broomsticks. One was very tall and thin. As Dean, Harry, Sam, and Hermione drew closer, the tall man drew his cloak more tightly around his neck and walked away, leaving the shorter man to fumble with something in his arms. Harry suddenly spoke.  


"Mundungus!" Sam and Dean shared a look. Obviously, Harry knew him. The man jumped and dropped an ancient suitcase, which burst open.  
"Oh, 'ello, 'Arry," said Mundungus. "Well, don't let me keep ya. Gimme that!" he snapped at Dean, who was holding a silver cup.  
"Thank you!" said Mundungus, snatching the goblet out of Dean's hand and stuffing it back into the case. "Well, I'll see you all—OUCH!" Harry, to the other's shock, had pinned Mundungus against the wall of the pub by the throat. He pulled out his wand.  
"Harry!" Sam protested. “Stop!”  
"You took that from Sinus's house," said Harry dangerously.  
"I--no--what--?" spluttered Mundungus, who was slowly turning purple.  
"What did you do, go back the night he died and strip the place?" snarled Harry. "Give it to me!"  


There was a sudden bang, and Mundungus was gone. Harry swore at the top of his voice, spinning on the spot.  
"COME BACK, YOU THIEVING-!" he yelled.  
"There's no point, Harry." Dean said. “He'll be gone by now.  
"He's nicked Sirius's stuff! Nicked it!" Harry exclaimed angrily.  
"Yes, but still," said Dean.  


They walked in silence into the Three Broomsticks. The moment they were were inside, Harry burst out, "He was nicking Sirius's stuff!"  
"I know, Harry, but please don't shout," whispered Hermione. Sam and Dean sat down with Harry.

“Calm down Harry, things will work out,” Sam said. Harry scowled. Hermione came back to them with three Butterbeers.

“Ugh.. I need a real beer,” Dean sighed.

“Getting withdrawal?” Sam snickered. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Shut it,” Dean replied. They made idle chit chat until Sam said he wanted to go to Honeydukes. They went back outside.

They became aware that the voices of Katie Bell and her friend becoming shriller and louder. The two girls were having an argument about something Katie was holding in her hand.

“What does she have?” Sam asked. Dean shrugged.  
  
"It's nothing to do with you, Leanne!" they heard Katie say. Leanne made to grab hold of the package Katie was holding but Katie tugged it back and the package fell to the ground.  
  
At once, Katie rose into the air, almost gracefully, her arms outstretched, as though she was about to fly. Her hair was whipped around her by the fierce wind, but her eyes were closed and her face was quite empty of expression. Sam, Dean, Harry and Hermione froze.  
  
Katie let out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open, displaying terrible anguish. She screamed and screamed. Leanne started to scream too and seized Katie's ankles, trying to tug her back to the ground. They ran towards the two girls and tried to pull her down. They managed to lower her, but she was still convulsing in obvious agony.  
“We have to get her to the castle,” Sam said. Dean nodded and bent down, scooping her into his arms, and ran off toward the castle with her. They followed, walking  
"Did it just happen all of a sudden, or--?" Sam asked Leanne as they saw Dean disappear.  
  
"It was when that package tore," Leanne sobbed, pointing at the now sodden brown-paper package on the ground, was split open to reveal a greenish glitter. Sam bent down, his hand outstretched, but Harry seized his arm and pulled him back. He wrapped the necklace in the scarf/  
"We'll need to show this to Madam Pomfrey," he said and began walking.

“Give it to me Harry,” Sam said. Harry gave Sam the scarf gently. They reached the castle within a couple of minutes. Minerva was hurrying down the stone steps through swirling sleet to meet them.  


"Dean says you four saw what happened to Katie Bell--upstairs to my office at once, please! What's that you're holding, Sam?"  
"It's the thing she touched," Sam replied.  
"Good Lord," said Minerva, looking alarmed as she took the necklace from Sam. "Take this necklace to Professor Snape at once, but be sure not to touch it, keep it wrapped in the scarf!"  
Sam and the others followed Minerva upstairs and into her office. 

  
"Well?" she said sharply. "What happened?"  
Leanne, after calming slightly, began to explain what happened to Katie. When she had finished, Minerva looked sympathetic.

“You’re sure Katie did not have this in her possession when she entered the Three Broomsticks?” Professor McGonagall asked Leanne.  
“It’s- it’s like I said.” She sniffled. “She left to go to the loo, and when she came back she had the package.” She took a pause. “She said it was important that she deliver it.”  
“Did she say to whom?” The Professor inquired.  
“To Professor Dumbledore.” Harry, Hermione and Sam all shared a silent look before turning their attention back to Leanne.

 

“All right,” She said kindly. “Go up to the hospital wing, please, Leanne, and get Madam Pomfrey to give you something for shock.” When she had left the room, Professor McGonagall turned back to Harry Sam, and Hermione.  
"What happened when Katie touched the necklace?"  
"She rose up in the air," Sam explained. "and then began to scream, and collapsed.”  
“She will need to go to St Mungo's,” Minerva. “The sooner the better.” She sighed. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary before Katie was possessed?”

“No Professor.” Harry replied.   
She sat back down and rubbed her temples. “Why is it when something happens that you are involved?” She frowned at Harry.  
“Professor Winchester, would you mind taking this down to Professor Snape?” McGonagall motioned towards the still bundled up necklace.”  
“Sure thing Professor.” Sam smirked. “You know my brother and I deal with cursed objects all the time. We could take a look at it if you want.”  
“I am well aware of that but for all intent and purpose; I think Professor Snape would want to examine it.”   
Sam picked up the necklace and walked down to Snape’s office. “Why do I always get stuck with the icky jobs?” he muttered to himself.  
Professor McGonagall looked at Harry and Hermione. “I suggest the two of you go back to your dormitories.” She looked confused. “Where’s Mr. Weasley? It’s just not the same without seeing the three of you.”

Hermione looked uncomfortable Harry gave her a sympathetic glance before turning to the professor. “He’s a bit indisposed at the moment.”

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Sam had lain the necklace down on Snape’s desk and uncovered it. “What do you think?”  
Snape didn’t answer right away. He pulled out his wand and levitated it. “I think Miss Bell is lucky to be alive.” He eyed Sam darkly.   
“She was cursed, wasn’t she?” Sam tried to take the accusation out of his voice.   
“Unfortunately it would seem so.” Snape replied.  
“Can you think of anyone who would do something like this?” Sam asked while he paced in front of the desk.  
“My, my, that is a very serious accusation, Mr. Winchester.” Snape addressed him while still looking at the necklace. “Are you implying that I had something to do with this?”

  
  


“No,” Sam stopped pacing and turned to face Snape. “I’m just trying to figure out how this could happen to a young innocent girl.”

  
“You astonish me with your gifts Mr. Winchester.” Snape drawled. “Gifts we mere mortals can only dream of possessing. Oh yes,” he noticed Sam’s tension as he mentioned ‘gifts’. 

“I have seen your gifts first hand in your brother’s memories. How horrible it must be for you to have premonitions about people dying.” He turned his attention back to the necklace. “Of course, how do we know that you and your brother didn’t give this to Miss Bell in a pathetic attempt to murder the Headmaster? Since you two seem to know so much about people being possessed.”

  
  


Sam looked like he wanted to punch the professor. 

“Look, like my brother told you, we were asked by Professor Dumbledore to be here. Why would we want to hurt people when we were asked to come and protect them?” Sam shook his head. “Who’s throwing accusations around now?”  
“I’m sorry Mr. Winchester, don’t begrudge me for asking.” Snape sat the necklace back down with a flick of his wand. “I’m just looking out for the student’s well-being.”   
“It’s alright; I’ll let you get to it then.” Sam turned his back to him and walked out to the classroom.  
He headed up to the Hospital wing to see his brother.

  
“Hey, is she doin’ alright?” Sam asked Dean when he spotted him a few yards away from Katie and Leanne.

“She’s still not responsive.” Dean looked at the unconscious girl and Madam Pomfrey checking her pulse and temperature. “They’ve sent an owl to that St. Mungo's place to come and get her.”  
“Dean, whatever did this thing to her, we’ll find it.” Sam put a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder.   
“If that son of a bitch Crowley had anything to do with this so help me-”  
“We’ll get him too.” Sam grinned. “It’s like you said, revenge is like a basket of cookies.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


The wind swirled among the trees, blowing dead leaves from their branches. The sight was dull and there were no sounds. It was almost as if there was nothing in this endless forest. Although in Purgatory, there was nothing but monsters that hid in the shadows. Purgatory was separate from both Heaven and Hell. It was once described as the backside of nightmares. All blood and bone and darkness, filled with the bodies and souls of all things hungry, sharp, and nasty. It was originally created by God to contain the oldest of creatures, Leviathans. Long story short, it was not a good place to have a vacation home.The sky was grey, cloudy and all of a sudden, growling was heard. A large, human shaped figure leaped from behind a tree, aiming for its prey, two humans. 

  
One man was 52 years of age, 6”2 with hard features, dark stubble, brown, almost black hair, brown eyes and muscular build. The man beside him was a few inches shorter, at 5”9 with long black hair to his shoulders, grey eyes, had an average build and looked to be in his mid-thirties. The older man pulled out a curved blade and with swiftness, sliced the vampire's head off with a smooth cut. The headless body fell to the ground.  
“Damn son of a bitch.” He scowled as he wiped the blood off his blade.

  
  


The men exchanged glances. Both had ended up in Purgatory for different, yet also similar reasons. They had both died to save someone they loved. The older man had been there for years after his spirit had faded, and now he was constantly fighting, but it wasn't any different to his life on Earth. He had been constantly fighting, as had the younger, who had only been there around six months after going down in a fight. 

  
  


The younger man had only been there a few hours when the elder had saved him from a creature that he had discovered was a Leviathan. He couldn't kill it, but was able to slow it down. He had fought those things before, and whatever he did, he couldn't succeed in killing the things. The men had discovered things about each other, and they began to trust one another, unusual for both men.

  
  


They knew they had to get out. They had heard rumours of a portal between Purgatory and discovered it was real after getting it out of some creatures. They were able to pinpoint it, and here they stood, staring at a blue vortex that swirled as they approached.  
“Here goes nothing,” the elder man muttered. The younger man smiled.   
“See you on the other side,” he replied and they both began to approach the vortex. As they drew closer, it seemed to be sucking them into it, and both men disappeared into it and the vortex was suddenly gone with them.  
  
The men both landed in a small alley.   
“Where are we?” the younger man asked.   
“I have no idea,” the eldest said. “There's a place over there with newspapers outside,” he said.

“Brilliant!” They both sprinted towards the building, which they identified as a small shop. The younger man grabbed a sodden newspaper and looked.   
“The _Daily Prophet_ ,” he read. “ _23rd of December 2010._ ”  
“Four years,” the older man breathed. “Damn.”  
“We're in Diagon Alley, in London,” the younger man said suddenly. “I didn't recognize it.” True, the alley looked extremely different from the last time he had seen it. They looked at the paper again.  
“Wait! What the hell?!” the older man said, grabbing the paper.

The younger man looked at the paper. “ _Muggle professors strike again: are our children safe?_ ”  
“ _Sources have found that the Muggle professors, Samuel and Dean Winchester have been teaching their students vile creatures that no child should see,_ ” the older one read and his jaw dropped. He looked at the picture that went with the article. “Those are my boys.”  
“We have to get to Hogwarts,” the younger man said.  
“Yes we do,” the older man replied with determination.  
John Winchester threw the paper to the ground as he and Sirius Black left to find their families with a loud crack.

  
  



	13. All I Want for Christmas

**Chapter 13**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 25 th December**

Christmas Day arrived with a flurry of snow and ice. He Winchesters were still in their rooms. Sam was deeply asleep, although his head was tossing, mumbled words forming.

Flashing images met his mind, memories from the past. Sam and Dean tried to block the past, but they couldn't help it. It was like a broken dam, The memories spurred forth. He saw his childhood, arguing with his father constantly leaving for Stanford. _If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back!_ Then, Jessica was on the ceiling, stomach slashed open, staring down with accusation in her eyes. _Your fault Sam. You weren't there._

 

Meanwhile in the next room, Dean awoke,and stretched. He smiled. Today was Christmas Day. It had never been great as kids, but he had tried to make it as good as he could. He bought, well _stole_ presents and he noted with a snort of amusement the year he had accidentally gotten Sam a Barbie doll and a cheer-leading stick. He smiled a little. He felt the small golden amulet that hung from around his neck, almost level with his heart. He didn't give a damn if he was being sappy. His brother was his life. They only had each other when it came to it. Dean got to his feet and groaned. He walked to the room that connected to his brother's quarters and knocked.

 

“Sammy?” he called. There was no answer. Dean sighed and opened the door. He walked towards his brother and shook him. 

“M'on Sammy, rise and shine.” Sam didn't move. There was a slight defensive groan from the back of his throat. Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“Get up Sasquatch!” Dean grinned. He walked to Sam's window and opened it. There was a gathering of snow on the windowsill which he gathered in his hands and walked back to his brother's bedside. He dumped the snow all over his brother and laughed as Sam's eyes sprung open.

 

“What the hell!” His brother shouted as Dean began laughing his ass off. Her glared at Dean.

“You're such a jerk,” he grumbled. Dean grinned.

“Merry Christmas bitch,” he laughed. Sam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“Happy Christmas Dean.”

“Here, got you somethin',” Dean said. He walked inside his room and pulled out a square package. Sam smiled a little and unwrapped it. He found a wizard chess set.

“Thought you'd like it geek boy,” Dean grinned. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Thanks Dean,” he said. His brother shrugged.

“Here,” Sam said and tossed Dean a small wrapped box. Dean smiled and opened it. It was a small Swiss army knife.

“I was able to get Professor Flitwick to enchant it so it's unbreakable and you won't have to sharpen it or anything,” Sam said.

“Thanks Sammy”, Dean smiled. “Come on! Christmas breakfast!” he grinned. Sam laughed.

Sam walked over to the closet and opened it. He shot back immediately.

“No,” he whispered. A man stepped out that looked around thirty three.

“Sammy,” Lucifer smiled. Sam stepped back in shock. There was a knock on the door before 

 

Professor McGonagall entered. Lucifer approached and Dean moved Sam out of the way. The figure changed and suddenly, it morphed into a duplicate of Sam. His eyes were fully black.

 _That's not Sammy, not my little brother,_ Dean thought. 

 

Minerva strode forward and spoke with her wand raised. The thing changed into a pale man with black robes and a snake like face with slits for nostrils and scarlet eyes with cat like pupils.

 

“Riddikulus!” she exclaimed and the thing disappeared.

“What the hell was that?” Sam asked, still very pale.

“That was a Boggart. It takes the form of what someone fears most,” Minerva said.

“Who was the guy you saw?” Sam asked. 

“That was Lord Voldemort,” Minerva said. “Dumbledore would like the staff to come to breakfast. He enjoys Christmas morning.”

 

“Sure, just let us get dressed and we'll be down,” Dean replied. Minerva left. The boys pulled on their clothes and had quick showers. Dean wore his new leather jacket and they both wore their rings from Castiel. Twenty minutes later, they were approaching the doors to the Great Hall. They walked inside and smiled. Few students were left during holidays. They quickly looked to see Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna sitting together at the Gryffindor table. They walked towards them.

 

“Hey,” they said. “Happy Christmas.” Harry turned to them. 

“Hey sirs, happy Christmas,” he said. “Did you get anything good?”

“Sam got me a Swiss army knife and I got him a wizard chess set. We both got rings and I got a leather jacket and Sam got a book,” Dean replied. “Nerd,” he grinned at his brother.

“Don't mind him,” Sam said, shooting his brother a look. They saw them grin in response.

“M'on Sammy,” Dean said. “Dumbledore's motioning.” Sam raised an eyebrow. _And they say he's the older one._ They both approached the staff table.

 

“Merry Christmas Samuel, Dean,” the old Professor smiled.

“Thanks Albus, and please call me Sam,” Sam replied, smiling. 

“Or Sammy, if you want to pi-tick him off,” Dean grinned, backtracking a little as Sam gave him a look for swearing in front of the Headmaster.

 

“I hope you enjoy your Christmas,” Albus said. Sam and Dean nodded 

“You too,” they replied and sat down. Food appeared suddenly and Sam and Dean grinned. They 

sat with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna. 

“How are you guys?” Dean asked. 

“We're fine,” Ron replied. 

“How are you finding the class?” Sam asked.

“It's very intense,” Hermione replied. “Especially the Hellhounds.”

“Well we lived it,” Dean pointed out. “By the way, there were a few details that we didn't mention. We'll cover them in one of the classes after the holidays.”

“It's hard to believe you went through that,” Ron said.

“That ain't the half of it. In the space of around three years, we saw our dad die, I saw Sam die less than ten months later, I went to Hell after a year and we saw countless friends die in all that time,” Dean bitterly responded. Sam rummaged in his bag, pulling out two bottles of whiskey. He gave one to Dean. They poured a glass each.

“To Jim, Mom, Caleb, Dad, Jess, Adam, Ash, Ellen, Jo and everyone else we saw die,” Dean muttered and they clinked glasses.

“We're doing a lot of toasting lately don't you think?” Sam pointed out, while the small group of students looked shocked.

“Shut up Sammy,” Dean said rolling his eyes. Sam smiled a little. There was a sudden flickering of the candles on the walls.

 

“Hey boys,” a voice sounded, and Sam and Dean turned rapidly. Dean pulled the demon-killing knife from his boot and Sam pulled out a 1911 Colt revolver.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Crowley said. 

“How the hell can you be here?” Dean exclaimed.

“King of Hell, Timon and Pumbaa,” Crowley said idly.

“Hilarious Crowley. Why are you here?!” Dean pressed.

“I've to give you two some news,” he said. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you tip us off?” he said incredulously. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Listen to me. Voldemort, that Dark Wizard your all so afraid of. He's planning something.”

“Like what?” Dean said.

 

“An attack,” Crowley said simply. “He really wants that Potter kid dead.” Hermione and Ron looked shocked. Suddenly, a flutter of wings ripped through the air and Castiel manifested.

“Crowley, leave them be,” he said coldly. _I told you to leave them alone!_ He said telepathically.

 _I'm a demon Castiel. I'm just giving them a little assistance._ Crowley smiled a little. 

“Hope you enjoy your present,” he said simply before he disappeared.

“What the hell was that about?” Sam exclaimed.

“Typical Crowley,” Dean muttered. He then looked to Castiel. “Cas, what did he mean by all that?”

 

“Crowley has teamed up with Voldemort. He is giving Voldemort 1,500 souls to fight with him,” Castiel said. He felt a wave of guilt come upon him. He almost felt like revealing his contribution to the plan, but he resisted. He needed to know about Purgatory. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled. “What did he mean about a present anyway?”

 

Castiel hesitated.

“What's wrong Cas?”

“Nothing Dean. It seems that humans can escape Purgatory, something we have never heard about.”

“Who escaped?” Hermione piped up. Castiel looked to her. “Sir.”

Dean smirked. “These are the kids we're teaching.” His eyes flickered to the staff table, who looked tense, with wands ready.

“It's alright,” he said to them. They slowly lowered their wands.  
“Who's back Cas?” Dean asked.

“John Winchester and a man named Sirius Black,” Castiel said calmly.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


John awoke with a groan. He stood, heart beginning to race. Since he and Sirius had ended up in Diagon Alley, they had travelled to a small village, Hogsmeade, which took them a few days. Sirius had been weak, and therefore, was unable to do something he called 'Apparation'. They had rested in an old hovel, something John was used to as he raised his boys.

His boys... Sam and Dean... He had missed them so much. It had been the only thing keeping him sane in Hell, with Alastair's knife cutting into his flesh thousands of times over, and finding himself 'miraculously' healed afterwards, ready for another round of torture. The last time he remembered seeing his sons was when they had killed Azazel. He had never felt more proud of them They had done what he had failed to do. 

  
  


His last words to his boys echoed in his head. He had tried to patch things up before he turned himself over, but he knew he had only made things worse. To Sam, it had been _I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?_ A simple request, but it was his way of saying goodbye. He couldn't do it in so many words of course, but he tried to help them in any way he could. 

  
  


For Dean, it had been the mission. That he would have to kill Sam if he couldn't save him. _Don't be scared, Dean._ He had leaned over to his son's ear. _Dean,there will come a time where Sammy will be in danger. You have to save him, or if you can't, you have to kill him._ Speaking those words had ripped his heart in two, and he wished he never had to say that to his son.

  
  


John sighed. He hadn't remembered much after Hell, apart from seeing his sons again. He watched as Dean pulled the trigger that ended that yellow eyed sonovabitch that ripped his Mary from him, from his sons, and turned their lives into ones filled with hunting, worry and pain. 

  
  


He hadn't realised until it was too late what he had actually done to his sons. He had taken their childhoods and made them grow up way too fast. Dean at barely five years old and Sam, when he was a little older than Dean was at that age, at eight, but it was still taking away their childhood ignorance to the things that go bump in the night. He remembered Alastair in Hell, telling him that Dean had made a deal. He had used it as a method of mental torture.

  
  


He walked over to Sirius and nudged him. The wizard's eyes shot open and he raised a wand, one he had obtained after a raid of the empty Ollivanders. Wand Shop. The newer shop that was set up after Olivander's kidnapping was a little down the alley from the original. The wizard got up.

“Come on,” John said, smiling a little.

“Kay,” Sirius said, grinning. “Showtime!”

“How are we getting in?” John asked.

“There's a passage leading into the castle from here. I'd say they'd be in the Great Hall,” Sirius replied. 

“Right, let's go,” John said. He grabbed a knife, and the salt shaker he had taken with him while getting food from a small pub called the _Three Broomsticks._ They both stood and walked to a small section of the floor, which Sirius lifted up. He got in and John followed.

“There's a dangerous tree at the end and a specific branch has to be touched to freeze it,” Sirius said and raised his hands to John's raised eyebrows. “Long story.”

John and Sirius walked down the passage, and suddenly it turned, then dropped, and it was about a mile before it began to rise slightly again. Eventually, Sirius stopped and picked up a small twig. He nudged a small branch. He heard a rustling stop. 

  
  


“Come on,” Sirius said and they both climbed out. 

“Now or never,” John replied as they began walking to the castle. They walked through a huge mahogany door and were met with a large marble staircase, and John watched as Sirius went to the door on the right. John took a deep breath. He looked forward to see four long tables, and five teenagers gathered at one. John instantly saw his sons. His eldest looked up and his mouth opened in shock.

  
  


_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

  
  


“What?” Dean exclaimed. “Cas, our dad's been dead for five years now, you know that.” 

“I am aware Dean. Your father and this wizard have found a way out of Purgatory and are coming here to see you.”

Dean and Sam's eyes were wide.

“I don't believe this,” Dean muttered.

“Sorry” Harry asked. “You said Sirius Black?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know him?” Sam asked 

“He's my godfather. He died back in June,” Harry replied in a sombre tone. 

  
  


“Dean, they will be here in a few moments. I assure you that they are not demons or anything supernatural. It appears that when your father's spirit escaped Hell, he went to Purgatory. As for the wizard, he was pushed through a portal where wizarding murderers used to be executed in the past. It had not been used in hundreds of years and when Sirius fell through, he was transported to Purgatory also.” 

With that, Castiel was gone, as a creaking of a door met their ears. A small part of Dean's mind noted that the staff had left to give them privacy. Dean's head snapped up and he saw two figures entering. He saw the brown, almost black hair, hazel eyes and stocky build of a man he would know anywhere. 

  
  


“Dad,” he whispered. Sam looked at his father, tears pooling in his eyes. Could this really be their father? 

“Boys,” John Winchester said. 

“You can't be our Dad, he's dead,” Sam said. _But would Cas lie?_ he thought.

“Son I'll prove it,” John said as he took out the salt shaker and opened it, creating a circle of salt around himself. He stepped out of it. Dean grabbed the demon-killing knife from his boot and approached the man who was thought to be his father. He grabbed him and forced a sleeve up. He dragged the knife across the skin, watching as the special silver knife had no reaction. Sam took out a flask of holy water, opened it and threw it at his face. Again, there was no reaction.

  
  


“Dad,” Dean whispered again, finally convinced. 

“Sam, Dean,” John whispered as his sons walked to him and he threw both arms around their necks, hugging them impossibly tight. They stepped back and looked at their father in astonishment. 

“How'd you get back?” Sam asked.

“Had a little help,” John replied, and the figure in the doorway stepped forward. 

  
  


“Sirius!” Harry yelled. Sirius smiled, walking forward and hugged Harry as he crashed into him. Sirius hugged each student that knew him. Luna walked up to Sirius and smiled.

“It's nice to finally meet you Mr Black,” she said formally. Sirius smiled.

“I can't believe this,” Dean said.

“How did you make it out?” Sam asked.

“We found out that there was a portal for humans to get through,” John said. He looked up with sudden tears in his eyes. “Boys, I am so proud of you both.”

  
  


“We had a bit of help from you,” Dean replied and John smiled.

“I mean it, I know I haven't been the best Dad, but I... I was obsessed,” John admitted. “I didn't think about what it would do to you both.” Dean took a deep breath, anger beginning to pool as memories arose. The control snapped and he strode forward and punched his father in the jaw. John looked at him in shock, hand holding his jaw.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed.

“Why did you tell me that Dad?” Dean said quietly. “You told me I would have to kill my own brother, and then Sam found you dead. Why damnit?”

“You needed to know. I couldn't finish this. I knew that,” John sighed. “You wouldn't have known otherwise.”

“For your information, Sam didn't go dark side. The others did. And what about the deal? Why'd you do it?”

“I had to save you. I'm your father and it's my job to protect you,” John replied. “You should know why I did it. I know about your deal. You only have about six years left.”

“Dad, let's just say that a year after I made the deal, I met Alastair,” Dean replied and John's eyes went wide.

“You only got a year?” John whispered. Dean nodded.

“How are you alive?” John asked.  
“Long story,” Dean said, and Sam smiled a little.

“Have we stopped fighting?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“ Sam playing peacemaker? Boy things have changed,” John muttered to himself, but Sam and Dean snorted in amusement.

  
  


  
  


  
  



	14. What Should Stay Dead

**Chapter 14**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 25 th December**

Several hours had passed, and Sam and Dean still couldn't believe it. Their father was alive and well. Dean had remembered desperately wishing for this after his death. Trashing the Impala had only been one of the things he had done, smashing the crowbar through the window, and swinging it at the trunk again and again, denting the trunk, as if it would lessen the crippling grief he felt.

 

Dean was lying on the bed and turning the Swiss army knife that Sam had given him just like Jo used to do. It was his way of keeping her memory alive. He thought about all the friends that had died and then the countless times that he and Sammy had died. He remembered his words to Sam after he had ‘saved’ him by taking him to that crackpot healer. _What is dead should stay dead._

  
Dean looked at the long since faded scars on his wrist and then at the knife. Sam had given him a blade for Christmas after hearing that Dean had cut himself after he died. _That was pretty stupid Sammy._ Dean thought to himself. 

 

He smirked a little. He examined the blade, watching as the light caught the metal. How easy it was, to cut through the skin all those months ago. It had seemed almost effortless. Now, he felt the desire beginning to pull at him again. Anyway, who would care if he were gone? Dad had told him straight a few days before he died. He knew it was the demon talking, but demons used a slight truth and magnified it to cause pain. The thought of that slight truth had convinced him.

 

He sighed. There was a knock on the door and Sam's voice called out.

“Come on dude. Dad wants answers.” Dean got up and walked to the door, opening it as he closed the Swiss army knife with the other hand and put it in his back pocket.

“Dad wants to know everything?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I think we should tell Harry, Ron, Hermione and that Sirius guy too. They're involved now,” Sam said.

“Awesome...” Dean muttered sarcastically. “This is gonna be fun.”

 

Dean and Sam walked out of the room and a few moments later, they found themselves in the Demonology classroom. Dean looked over and saw his father, Harry, Sirius, Ron and Hermione sitting in chairs inside. The members of the Order were present too. Sirius after all was a member of the Order. They were all happy to see him, but kept their distance and their hands trained on their wands, just in case. The members of the Order watched the back and forth interrogation of the man called John Winchester with wary eyes. 

 

Lupin was still in shock over seeing his friend on this side of the veil. He was the only one who was close enough to Harry to restrain him so he wouldn’t go after Sirius. While in his own heart he was grieving for Sirius just as much as Harry was. Sirius was the one who suggested that the other marauders should become Animagi to help Lupin get through his werewolf transformation. Then when they had graduated they all joined the Order of the Phoenix, to which Sirius took the blame for murdering Harry’s parents when it really was Peter’s fault. 

  
Now that he was back, Lupin didn’t know what to think, there were several questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t risk asking them. It’s like the Winchester boys said, they have no way of knowing how the two men got back in the first place, or if they are who they claim to be. Then Lupin turned his attention to John. 

 

He really couldn’t describe the man, for all intense and purpose, he looked like an average man. But being a werewolf, Lupin was afraid of him. The Order had chosen to keep his identity a secret because they thought the Winchester’s would try and kill him. He wondered how many of his brethren had been put to death at the hands of these three. He held Tonks by his side but tried not to draw attention to himself.   


She tried to pull away from him. _He never lets me have any fun,_ she remarked to herself. But looking at the way the three Winchester’s bantered back and forth, she was afraid for Lupin with him being a werewolf. They would kill him if they got the chance. But what really surprised her was that a hunter would help Sirius. 

 

From what she had heard from the Winchester’s, they weren’t so chummy with wizards before they had gotten the letter. They had always associated witches and wizards with demons, and they had made it their life’s mission to kill them.

 

But then she was glad that he was here because he had brought Sirius back to them. Tonks fell into a depression when Sirius died. She felt like it was her fault that he had died, because she was fighting Bellatrix and didn’t finish her when she had the chance. Survivor’s guilt, that’s what Hermione had called it. As much of a good person that Sirius was, why was it that she was allowed to live while he was torn from his family, his godson? 

  
As for Mad eye he was afraid of the new comer, he didn’t have a particular issue with Sirius but John scared him. After Barty Crouch Jr. had thrown him in that trunk and impersonated him for a semester he was a little gun shy, though he never admitted it. He stood gruffly in the corner waiting and watching. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had shown up a few minutes after everyone else. Molly had to drag Arthur away from John quite forcefully because he was asking too many questions about Muggles. John didn’t shy away from the questions, just answered them simply and saying, “But I’m not a regular, normal, human being so I don’t know if that has any relevance.” 

  
With Molly being the protective mother that she was wanted to shield the children from John. He was a strange person who seemed to come out of thin air along with Sirius who until recently she had thought to be a convicted killer and mad man. But by the same token, she was happy that Sam and Dean were reunited with their father, no matter the circumstances.

 

Sam and Dean had so many questions for John, just as he had so many for them. John waited for them to start. 

  
“How much do you remember dad?” Sam asked. “Like before you…” He couldn’t make out the word died. 

  
“I remember the graveyard… and killing Yellow Eyes.” John said smiling, trying to remember the past, but it was all a little hazy. Being in purgatory, he could only remember the last few moments. He came out of Hell and grabbed Yellow Eyes, giving Dean enough time to use the Colt on him and kill that son of a bitch. “The next thing I remembered was being stuck in that God forsaken forest, and I met Sirius after a couple of years.” He saw his sons nod.

 

“How've you boys been?” John asked. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. 

“Just awesome Dad,” Dean muttered. John frowned.

“Right. After you died, we met the Harvelles. We went on a couple of hunts, routine things. We found out about some kids like Sam,” Dean began. He and Sam were both still suspicious of him.

What happened to them?” John said. 

 

“Some of them went nuts, as you thought,” Sam scowled. “Dean also told me what you told him before you died. Anyway, a few months later, Yellow Eyes decided to round up all the psychic kids and make us all fight to the death. Soon enough it was only us and a guy called Jake. He stabbed me in the back, when I was going to Dean and Bobby, and I bled out,” he finished. The word hit John like a ton of bricks. He paled. _How is Sam alive?_ He thought.

 

“I made a deal,” Dean said, emotionless. “He was dead for two days and I cracked. I went to a crossroads and I was given a year,” he said matter-of-factly. John's mind was still reeling from the fact that his son had made a deal and gone to Hell. He remembered Alastair's voice from the rack. _Hmm, seems you're not the only Winchester to make a deal Johnny. Dean will be with us soon._ “The same night,” Dean continued. “We went and killed the Demon, as you know.”

“As the year passed, I tried to get Dean out of the deal. Dean wouldn't let me because the Crossroads Demon had told him that if he tried to get out of it, I'd die. I met a demon, Ruby-”

“Or I like to call, 'Bitch',” Dean cut in.

 

“She helped us out. She saved our asses a couple of times and agreed to help us in finding a way out of the deal. Dean and I got cursed by a Trickster and every day, I woke up and saw Dean die. I woke up again. It was like Groundhog Day,” Sam said. “We eventually managed to break the curse and went back to getting Dean out of it. We didn't manage to. The demon Lilith took over the body Ruby was possessing and set the Hellhounds on Dean. I couldn't burn him so we buried him.”

 

John's heart skipped. _Hellhounds?_ The news washed over him, shocking every nerve in his body. His son had met those vicious bastards. He felt a rush of guilt. He had left his oldest to die at the hands of vicious Hell dogs, and his youngest to bury his brother. He felt a surge of protectiveness for his sons, that they had to go through it alone, but also pride, as they had gotten past that. But how was Dean alive?

 

“Four months, or forty years in Hell later, I woke up in my own grave, dug myself out and found Bobby. He tried to kill me but after I proved it was me, we left to find Sam. We met up. Yadda yadda yadda. Turns out I was brought back by an Angel. He dragged me from Hell because God had some work for me to do,” Dean said, his voice turning bitter as he finished. “We found out that Lilth was trying to break the 66 seals to free Lucifer from Hell.” Dean suddenly sighed. “Alastair... he'd would come over. And he would make me an offer to take me off the rack if I started the torture. Every day I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For 30 years, I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore.” Dean said, his eyes lowering slightly. 

 

“Me cracking in Hell broke the first Seal.” Dean tried to stop the memories from coming back, the words that Alistair said to him came back in a flood. “ _Pulled out all the stops, but John, he was, well, made of something unique,”_ Alastair had said. _“The stuff of heroes. And then came Dean. Dean Winchester. I thought I was up against it again. But daddy's little girl, he broke. He broke in thirty. Oh, just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, huh, Dean?”_ Dean paused for a moment. "I guess you were stronger than me."

 

“ _You cracked? You started the Apocalypse!” John exclaimed. “It ain't that simple Dean!”_

"It's not like I wanted to Dad!" Dean said, outraged

"Don't start this ' _holier than thou_ ' crap with me."

“Dad, don't tell me that you never thought about it. I know he tortured you too. They were originally betting for you to crack before you escaped Hell!” Dean got up and walked away, and suddenly, Castiel appeared, inches from Dean's face.

"What are you? The Angel of awkward entrances?" Dean exclaimed, hand on his chest, trying to slow his racing heart.

“Hello Dean, my apologies,” Cas replied. “Although I do not understand.”

"What don't you understand Cas?" Dean was annoyed by the angel's appearance. "Move." Castiel stepped back and Dean spoke. 

  
  


"Anyway, the Seals broke and Sam got tricked into breaking the last one when he killed Lilth because of Ruby," Dean continued.

"Ruby? What does Ruby have to do with this?" Cas looked puzzled 

“"We were explaining what happened in the past few years. Sometimes hot demonic chicks showed up, it's like they are attracted to me or something,” Dean said. “I really enjoyed stabbing Ruby.”

  
  


“With what? A knife can't kill a demon,” John said raising an eyebrow.

“This one can,” Dean said, pulling the demon-killing knife from his pocket.

"Where did you get that knife Dean?" John eyed the blade curiously. 

“Ruby,” Dean answered simply. “Stole it from her.” 

  
  


“We started trying to get Lucifer back in the Cage. After a while, we managed to get the Horsemen's rings that would re open the Cage. We found out that I was Lucifer's vessel and Dean was Michael's and we would fight to the death. Dean wouldn't do it. They brought back Adam,” Sam said. John looked shocked.

"Yea, we know that you knew." Dean looked at him bitterly.  
"How did you know?" John asked.

  
  


“He called your phone and told us. But it turned out Adam was killed by ghouls a few years before. After I wouldn't say yes to Michael, they raised Adam as a backup,” Dean said. “Sam said yes to Lucifer and he and Michael who was possessing Adam had a showdown. Lucifer blew Cas into a million pieces, snapped Bobby's neck and beat the crap out of me before Sam got enough control to open the Cage with the Horsemen's rings and threw himself in. Cas was brought back and he raised Bobby. I went to live with Lisa, an old girlfriend. Around a year later, Sam turned up and after a while, I noticed something was wrong. Turns out Sam was brought back, without his soul. I made a deal with the Death Horseman. I had to be Death for a day and if I could do it, he'd bring Sam's soul back and put up a wall in his head to hold back the memories of Hell.”

"And speaking of Death, we have a class to prepare for on Reapers." Sam punched Dean on the shoulder.

  
"So, my boys are training the next generation of hunters." John smiled.  
"No dad, we aren't training killers, we are saving these kids lives." Sam walked to the door. "I'm not going to say this will be easy, but Dad, it's gonna take a while." Dean followed. 

“We'll talk to you later Dad,” he said before leaving the room.

Hermione, Harry and Ron shared a look.

  
  


“That is one messed up family,” Ron muttered and John glared at him.

“Shut up Ron,” Hermione snapped as Mrs Weasley exclaimed “Ronald!” John picked up Dean's phone from his desk. He left the classroom before scrolling through the contacts and pressing the green button.

  
  


"Whaddya want idgit? Why didn't you use that stupid pigeon you sent me the last time, if you wanted to talk to me. She bit the piss out of my finger." John raised an eyebrow.

“Hey Bobby,” he said. There was a silence

“Listen here you sonovabitch. I ain't stupid. John Winchester is dead.”

“Bobby look, it's really me. Ask me somethin' only I would know.”

“What was our last argument about?”

  
  


“Sam leaving for Stanford. You shoved a shotgun in my face and told me to get the hell off your property,” John said There was another long silence.

“So you're back John,” Bobby said finally.

“Yeah Bobby, I'm back,” John replied. “Long story short I was in Purgatory. I got out and here I am.”

  
  


“I'm guessing the boys know? Since you're using Dean's phone.”

“Yeah, they know,” John sighed. “They're pretty pissed at me.

“I can understand why,” Bobby said sarcastically.

A few more seconds passed by until Bobby spoke again.  
“Are the boys there?” He asked. “Let me talk to ‘em.” John sighed. 

  
  


“Still don’t believe me do you? I wouldn’t expect any less from you Bobby. Actually they just left. I think I can still catch them though. Hang on.” John pulled the phone away from his ear and ran out into the hall. Thankfully Sam and Dean were just a few yards away it looked like they were arguing with one another. John jogged to catch up with them. He offered the phone to Dean.  
“Bobby wants to speak with you.” Dean took the phone and held it up to his ear. 

  
  


“Bobby? Yea it’s me. I’m not sure if it’s true either but what can we do about it now?” He looked at John and then Sam. “Bobby, there’s no need for you to come. You couldn’t find this place even if you wanted to. There’s some magic cloaking device that hides the castle from Muggles. Dad was travelling with some wizard that he met in Purgatory. Yea, we did all the usual tests, holy water, cutting him with the knife, the whole nine yards.”

  
  


“Let me talk to him.” Sam held out his hand for the phone.   
Dean held the phone away from his ear. John and Sam couldn’t make out what he was saying but he was apparently yelling at Dean. 

  
  


“Bob-Bobby!” Dean yelled back. “Bobby! Sam wants to talk to you.” Dean gave the phone to Sam. “I thought he was going to crawl through the phone and choke me.”  
“Bobby, it;s Sam. I’m sorry, Jess didn’t mean it.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Look Bobby, Dad is standing right here in front of me and I’m pretty sure he’s real. He poured salt in a circle around him and he stepped out, seems legit to me. Cut him with the knife, the holy water. Okay Bobby we will.” 

  
  


He hung up and handed it back to Dean.  
“He’s pretty pissed at me isn’t he?” John guessed.  
“You could say that again.” Dean replied. “He doesn’t trust you, and neither do I. Not for a while anyway.”  
“What is it gonna take to make you boys realize that it’s really me? That I am really here and I’m not a demon?”  
“I don’t know.” Dean sighed as he turned and walked down to the Great Hall.

  
  



	15. Bad Moon Rising

**Chapter 15**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 10 th January 2011**

January came bearing slightly warmer weather than December had brought. Dean was in his and Sam's room in the staff quarters going over their class plans. The past couple of days had been tough on the three Winchesters. The brothers were still barely talking to their father, but it had gotten slightly better, only contributing to the proof that they loved their father dearly. Things were struggling along. Dean and Sam, after some discussion had decided to share a room and give their father the other. After all, what was sharing a room to them? Nothing. They had grown up in the same room all their lives. Them sharing a room was partly for their comfort, and also due to the fact that neither son wanted to sleep in the same room as their father. _Why do I have to give up my room?_ _Dean had scowled._ Sam had asked him if he really wanted to share a room with his father and it shut Dean up quickly.

 

Dean had been feeling worse and worse since John's arrival. He was happy to have his father back of course, yet the nagging in his head never stopped. That John had given his life for Dean. It brought a wave of grief so intense that it threatened to push Dean over the edge. He had fought with severe depression since his teenage years, but never said anything. He just sat back and drank until his mind went numb. What was it that Bobby had said only a few months before? Just because it kills your liver doesn't mean it's not medicine. How true that was. It numbed the pain and the fear of whether he was going to make it another day. It was a constant battle. They never knew when they would die, not that anyone did of course, but they had both died multiple times at this stage, so the blackness of death did not hold any peace. When Dean and Sam had been shot by the hunters, they had woken in Heaven, and Dean discovered things that he would rather not knowing about his brother. That Sam's favourite memories were that family at Thanksgiving, Flagstaff when he ran off and the night of the fight and Sam's leaving for Stanford.

 

Dean wasn't fazed by the fact that he might actually succeed in killing himself. Having been down that road many times before it was just like saying I'm going out for a while, I'll be back soon. Dean realized that he had been thinking about this kind of thing a lot in the past few months. He looked at the clock. It was five past nine in the morning. _Crap, class,_ Dean thought. He got to his feet and grabbed his gun and the knife from his bag. He left his room and began walking to the classroom. Sam had gone ahead to place his side of the memories in. They would be using Dean's memories mainly, as Dean had to show the Reaper's effect on him. 

  
The student’s had started trickling in a few at a time and Dean started to pull out the memories.

First, the time that Sam took him to that faith healer Roy Le Grange, then there was Tessa the night that his Dad died, oh and let’s not forget the time that Dean himself became a reaper. Of course, with their backgrounds what reaper wouldn’t want to follow them around?

  
John was sitting in the doorway of the office observing them silently. Sam was checking the slides that he had prepared to give the students a better visual aid and Dean had a stick to his forehead and was pulling out a glowing silver thread. Both were totally at ease being here in this strange place. He had to admit, when Sirius first told him that he was a wizard, he didn’t know what to think. In his line of work, noting really surprised him anymore. He had a brief knowledge of wizards but most of it consisted of normal people using demonic rituals to gain supernatural powers. But he had searched for all the usual signs but yielded no results. The boys had told him that it was in their blood, literally. Like they had hunting in their blood.

  
  


It made sense, but he was still sceptical, today was his first day observing the class, he would pass judgement after that.   
“Ok class, before we begin our lessons today, we have a special guest to introduce you to.” Dean motioned for John to come down and meet the students. “This is our father, John Winchester. He taught us everything we know about hunting.”  
John came to stand beside his son awkwardly but tried to maintain that ‘strict father/teacher’ face. The students shuffled in their seats uncomfortably.   
“Awkward.” Dean whispered in a sing-song voice.

  
“Alright everyone, today’s topic is…” Sam called out imitating a drum roll on the projector, trying to alleviate the tension. “Reapers.” A slide rolled onto the screen with the word Reaper on it and a depiction of an ordinary man dressed in a black suit.  
The class murmured and most started scribbling down notes on their parchment. A hand flew into the air.   
“Yes, Miss Granger?”   
“I thought Reapers were dressed in black cloaks and wielded scythes.”

“Are you referring to that lame television show The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy?” Dean scoffed. “Like a real reaper would get tricked into being two snot-nosed brats servant.”

  
  


“Well that is one depiction of them, but in our line of work this is what they look like. Basically, Reapers are invisible to humans unless the person is near death or in spirit or astral projection form, so no one really knows what they look like,” Sam explained.

"And by the way, Death did have a scythe, he just lost it, believe it or not." Dean said, remembering the old Horseman with a strange love of fast food. "Met him a few times."

"You've met Death?" Malfoy said incredulously. 

"Yep," Dean replied simply. Sam rolled his eyes. 

  
“Those who cans see them, don’t live to tell the tale, or are either in our line of work.” Dean cut in.  
Sam switched slides and there was a ton of information on it, the first one being that reapers are invisible. 

“Reapers are able to stop time, and are capable of altering human perception to make themselves appear any way they want.”  
“Like in the example we are going to show you.” Dean gestured to the Pensieve.  
“Reapers are vulnerable to Death’s Scythe. Death’s Scythe is a special weapon used by Death that kills angels, demons, and reapers.” Sam explained before Hermione.

Sam explained before Hermione could raise her hand to ask. “They can be bound using spells and Enochain runes. Enochain is the language of Angels. And they can also be possessed by Demons, but only by powerful demons.” He turned off the projection screen.  
“And now that the boring nerdy stuff is over let’s get to the fun part.” Dean clapped his hands together and rubbed them together.

"Well basically," Dean explained. "We were in a car accident while Sam and Dad were driving me to a hospital because I was already hurt. A semi-truck hit us and we all ended up in the hospital. I was in a coma and they said I was gonna die. I was a disembodied spirit and I had an encounter with a reaper.That's it really. Line up." He turned to Sam.

"I've done some crazy stuff before, but teaching small children?" He muttered.

"Yea Dean, who would have thought it?" Sam laughed. “Come on Dad.” John approached and less than a moment later, they were all in the Pensieve.

 

_**Dean arose from his bed and looked around. He got to his feet. He went into the hallway.** _

“ _ **Sam? Dad? Anybody?” he called.**_

Sam and John looked at Dean in confusion.

__**Dean went down the stairs to the front of the hospital and saw a nurse's station. He spoke as he approached.  
“Excuse me. Hi. I, uh, i think I was in a car accident, my dad and my brother, I just need to find them,” he said but the nurse took no notice as she typed into the computer in front of her.  
“Hello?” he said, snapping his fingers in front of her and waving his hand a little. He turned away and walked back upstairs. He walked down the corridor, glanced to the side and froze in shock. He saw himself in the hospital, a tube in his mouth, unresponsive and dying. He could hear the slow beeping of the heart monitor and the whoosh-click of the ventilator.**

“ _ **Shit,” he breathed.**_

The memory morphed. They were in the same room, but this time John was at Dean's beside. Dean's spirit stood mere feet away, glaring.  
 _ **“Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything?” Dean said, pleading. He walked around the bed, angrily.  
“I've done everything you've ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?”**_

John flinched. Dean sent him an almost guilty look. John had been planning something, but by the time they found out, his father was long dead. The memory morphed again and the students watched as Sam stormed in. Dean's spirit walked with him.

“ _ **Sammy! Tell me you can friggin' hear me, man, there's something in the hospital. Now, you've got to bring me back and we've got to hunt this thing,” He said desperately. Sam looked out the window.**_

“ _ **You're quiet,” John said.**_

__**Sam turned pure fury on his face, and hurled the bag he was holding onto the bed with a crash.  
“Did you think I wouldn't find out?” Sam spat.  
“What are you talking about?”**

__****  
“That stuff from Bobby, you don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown?!” Sam roared.  
“I have a plan, Sam,” John replied calmly. Sam continued to yell.  
“That's exactly my point! Dean is dying, and you have a plan! You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!” Dean's spirit was telling over them.

“ _ **No, no, no, guys, don't do this!”**_

“ __ **Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean,” John said, pointing with his uninjured limb at Sam.  
“How? How is revenge going to help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself, it's the same selfish obsession!” Sam fumed.  
“Come on guys, don't do this!” Dean said angrily.**

__**  
“You know, it's funny, I thought it was your obsession too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt. Now if you'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened,” John yelled.  
“It was possessing you, Dad, I would have killed you too!” Sam exclaimed.**

“ __ **Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now!” John replied, snapping.  
“Shut up, both of you!” Dean yelled.  
“Go to hell!” Sam hissed.**

The Winchesters shared a grave look. 

“ __ **I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong —“  
“I said SHUT UP!” Dean yelled over them and smacked a glass of water from the table and it crashed to the floor. Sam and John looked at each other. Dean looked stunned.  
“Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother,” Dean muttered. He suddenly crumpled in pain, flickering. Nurses and doctors ran by the door.**

“ _ **What is it?” Dean managed to choke out.**_

“ __ **Something's going on out there,” John said, jerking his head for Sam to go and find out. They left the room and Sam arrived at Dean's room and stopped. Monitors were beeping, a doctor and some nurses were surrounding Dean, performing CPR on him. The paddles were applied and Dean's back arched from the electricity. Sam was in the doorway, tears in his eyes and he spoke shakily.  
“No,” be breathed.  
“Still no pulse,” the nurse reported.**

“ _ **Okay, let's go again, 360,” the doctor said.**_

“ _ **Charging,” the nurse said and the doctor shocked an unresponsive and flat-lining Dean again.  
Sam was still in the doorway, crying and fidgeting. Dean came up behind him. He saw a ghostly figure floating over the himself in the bed.**_

“ _ **You get the hell away from me. Stay back!” he yelled approaching as his body was shocked in the bed again.  
“I said get back!” Dean yelled.**_

_**Sam blinked, looking like he heard something. Dean grabbed for the thing and he latched on momentarily before it hurled him at the wall and then soared out of the room. The monitors slow, quiet.** _

“ _ **We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm,” the nurse said. Dean ran into the hallway, looking for the spirit. Sam sighed in relief and backed into the hallway. Dean came back and stood beside him.**_

“ _ **Don't worry, Sammy. I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting that thing before it gets me. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it, I can kill it,” Dean said gently.**_

Sam and Dean smiled at each other. There was a whoosh as they exited the Pensieve.

“That's basically everything we need to see,” Dean said. “But that's not the whole story.” He looked at John as he spoke.

“I woke from the coma after a while and Sam found dad dead about an hour later," he explained.

“How is he alive?” Malfoy asked snobbishly. Dean frowned

“Hell if we know,” he responded. Hermione put up her hand.

“Yeah?” Sam asked. 

“Sir, are there any distinguishing features of a Reaper that are present in their human forms? Like a way to tell a normal person from a reaper in human disguise?"

“Well you are the only one that can see them if you're dying, or dead. They will only talk to you,” Dean explained.

“Sir, the true form of a Reaper is similar to a Dementor,” Harry said, raising his hand.

“What's a Dementor?” Sam asked. A shudder went through the class.

“They make you relieve your worst memories by sucking the happiness out of you,” Harry said.

“Sounds awesome,” Dean muttered. “Reminds me a little of the Shtrigas.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John scowl. He remembered the night the Shtriga came for Sam and John had stopped it. They never talked about it again. John never even added it to his journal. The journal! Dean rummaged in his bag.

“Here Dad,” he said, handing him the old, worn leather journal. 

"What was happening to you when the reaper attacked your mortal body? Sir," a short black haired girl asked from the back of the class.

“I was dying. The Doctors were trying to bring me back," Dean said as Sam made a face at the memory.

The bell rang, signalling the end of class.

“Okay guys, homework,” Sam called out and everyone groaned. “Write a short essay on Reapers. Around six inches of parchment.”

“So, this is what you boys do? Go through previous hunts and ‘show’ them the warning signs and how to kill supernatural creatures?” John asked as the last student left the room.

“Pretty much.” Dean sighed as he and Sam moved the Pensieve back into is place and then he pulled out his wand and tapped the projector and it disappeared.  John wondered where it had disappeared to but figured it was better not to ask.

 

“Will these kids really face things like Reapers and Shtrigas?” John questioned as he came over to the Pensive, it illuminated his face in a haunting way as he stared into its depths.

“Yea.” Sam said in a sympathetic tone.

 

“They are only kids. They shouldn’t have to see stuff like this.” John made a face.

“Well Dad, we did see a Shtrigas and a hell of a lot scarier things when we were kids.” Dean pointed out.

 

“Yea, and look how great that turned out?” John laughed humorlessly. “I mean you two were lucky. These kids have no idea what they are up against.”

“That’s what we’re here for Dad.” Sam smiled grimly.

“So this Voldemort? He wants to kill this kid named Harry Potter huh?”

“Yea, and it seems like he’ll do anything to do it too.” Dean grimaced.

“Well God help him if he’s going up against these things.” John started flipping through the _Supernatural Beasts and Defence_. 

 

“Dad, did you happen to notice anything in Purgatory when you were there? Any signs of an uprising?” Sam asked.

“Not really, but things seemed off in the last couple of weeks that I was there. But what do you expect with Purgatory?”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

One morning after breakfast Professor Slughorn came up to Sam and Dean and invited them to a party.

“I’m having a little get together with some of my favorite students and teachers. You all are invited if you would like to come.”

“We would love to come.” Sam smiled. “Where is it?”

“Oh, it’s down in my office, in the dungeons. I’ll see you on Friday!” He hurried away.

“Parties in Dungeons, what’s next?” Dean laughed as Sam shrugged his shoulders.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“Why do I have to wear this?” Dean complained as Sam helped him get his dress robes on.

“Because it’s a formal occasion, and we have to look nice.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“But Dad doesn’t have to wear one!”

“Because Dad didn’t pay for one using the other Professor’s money, idiot.”

Dean groaned as he looked at himself in the mirror. “Shoot me now Dad!”

“No way!” John laughed leaning against the door frame of his room. “This is too much fun to end it now. Do you want me to take your pictures? Like prom?”

“DAD!” Dean grabbed a pillow and threw it at John as he pulled out his phone. 

 

Later, they followed the rest of the formally dressed student’s down to the dungeons and into Slughorn’s party.

“Nice party.” Dean commented.

“Hello.”

The men turned to see who it was; Professor McGonagall had walked up and was smiling at them. “I heard that the infamous John Winchester was here and I decided to see it for myself.”

“Hello Professor.” Sam smiled. “This is our Dad, John Winchester. Dad, this is Professor McGonagall.”

“It’s a pleasure ma’am.” John offered his hand.

“You have raised some fine young boys Mr. Winchester.”

“I tried.” John ruffled Dean’s hair.

“Oh Professor, can you show me that spell you were demonstrating the other day?” Sam pulled out his wand.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and pulled her wand out and asked a pudgy boy if she could borrow his toad. He offered it to her reluctantly and she scooped it up and tapped it three times with her wand. “ _Vera Verto._ ”

The toad warbled and turned into a drinking glass.

“That is amazing!” Sam said in an awed voice. “I love magic!”

“If you think that’s good, you should come see this.” Professor McGonagall led Sam away from Dean and John.

 

“So, this wizard thing, you guys are ok with all of this?” John gestured to the whole room.

“Well, it spooked me at first, Sam was gung-ho for it but I was leery of it.” Dean replied. “But the more you get to know them they are just like normal people. They laugh, cry, and enjoy life and struggle through hardships.”

“It seems like you have a soft spot for them.” John noticed the fondness in his son’s voice as he talked about these kids.

 

“I don’t know, I guess I see a lot of Sammy in them. How he used to be I mean.” Dean smiled at an older boy that was showing a younger boy how to levitate a drinking glass. “They really shouldn’t know about the things that go bump in the night, but most of them have already had hardships. That Harry kid we were talking about earlier? His parents were killed by Voldemort when he was a kid.”

 

“Just like Sammy.” John breathed.

“Yea, there he is over there.” Dean pointed to the short kid with round glasses and messy black hair talking to the girl who had asked the most questions during the class that John had sat in on. “Ever since that night, Voldemort has tried to kill him six times and failed.”

“Six times? You would think he would give up after that many failures. What did Harry do to deserve that?”

“No one really knows, or those who do aren’t telling.” Dean spied Snape lurking in the corner. Dean still hadn’t written him off as innocent.

“Are you two enjoying yourselves?” Slughorn came up to them with a bottle in his hand.

“Yes sir Professor thanks for inviting us.” Dean smiled.

“You are quite welcome my boy, here.” He poured the liquid from the bottle into their glasses. “Have a glass of mead it’s a special blend!” he turned to offer it to some passers by.

 

“I appreciate it Professor.” Dean held up the glass and clinked it with his Dad’s. “Bottoms up!”

John sniffed his glass, something seemed off about it, but Dean had chugged the whole thing in one gulp. There was one second, barely a heartbeat, in which John knew there was something wrong. 

 

“Dean!” he shouted. Dean had dropped his glass and crumpled to the floor. He was jerking uncontrollably, foam dribbling down his mouth and his hazel green eyes budging out of their sockets.Sam appeared out of the crowed that was forming around them and crouched down beside Dean. 

“Dean! Professor Slughorn?!” he looked for the professor who was working his way back to Dean. “Professor do something!”

 

But Slughorn seemed paralysed by shock, all the while Dean twitched and choked on the floor, his face was turning blue.

“Dad?” Sam turned to John, looking for a way to help him.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” John admitted, feeling worse than Sam.

 

Harry came out of nowhere and was carrying something that looked like a medical kit. He pulled out jars and pouches, while the terrible sound of Dean’s gargling filled the room. Then he found what he was looking for, a shrivelled kidney-like stone.

“What is that?” Sam asked.

“A bezoar.” Harry replied as he shoved it down Dean’s throat.

Dean’s whole body shook for a second longer, he gasped for breath, and his body became limp and still.

 

“What’s happened to him?” John held Dean up and put his ear to his chest to check if he still had a heartbeat. To his relief, he heard a rapid thumping against his eardrums. _Thank God,_ he thought.

“I’m not really sure.” Harry said. “We should probably take him to the Hospital Wing though.”

“I’ll go get the headmaster, Severus, Horace, would you come with me?” McGonagall beckoned them to come with her and they followed, Snape stifled a cough that sounded suspiciously like laughter as he disappeared up the stairs.

Dean then opened his eyes and started coughing John helped him up.

John insisted on carrying Dean up to the Hospital Wing, as if Dean wasn’t embarrassed enough by the dress robes.

 

Madame Pomfrey soon had him in a cot and was taking his temperature when Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Slughorn came into the room.

“Good thinking on your part Harry for using a bezoar.” Dumbledore commented. “You must be very proud of your student Horace.”

“Hum? Oh yes very proud.” Slughorn still looked like he was trying to remember something from before. He was clutching to the bottle of mead.

“I think we all agree that Potter’s actions were heroic.” McGonagall said sarcastically. “The question is why were they necessary?”

 

“Why indeed.” Dumbledore walked over to Slughorn. “This appears to be a gift, Horace. You don’t remember who gave you this bottle? Which by the way,” he took a sniff, “possesses remarkably subtle hints of licorice and cherry when not polluted with poison.”

 

“I knew something smelled off.” John remarked as he walked over to smell the bottle for himself.

“Actually, I had intended to give it as a gift,” Slughorn admitted.

“To whom, I might ask?” Dumbledore asked, passing the bottle to Snape.

“To you, Headmaster.” Slughorn said regrettably. Silence enveloped the room.

“I think someone is trying to get rid of you Professor Dumbledore,” Sam muttered. 

 

“Damn, I'd hate to be you right now,” came Dean's weak voice from his bed. 

“How do you feel Dean?” Sam asked. 

“Like I did after the Rawhead to be honest,” Dean said. “Not as bad though.” Sam's eyes widened as he remembered finding his brother in a puddle of water with a used taser in his hand, and later being told that his older brother had suffered a major heart attack and had a month to live. He looked to Madam Pomfrey.

“Can he get something for the pain?” he asked.

“Sammy I'm fine,” Dean said, sick of the babying already. 

“Yeah, you look it,” Sam said sarcastically. Dean rolled his eyes. Madam Pomfrey came up with a vial. She helped Dean to take it.

“The quick thinking with the bezoar saved your life. You will be fine in a few days.”

“Ugh,” Dean groaned. “I hate hospitals,” he muttered, coughing a little. Sam smirked a little. His brother never changed.

  
  



	16. Sent From Heaven

**Chapter 16**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 17 th January 2011**

It had been three days since Dean's poisoning. Dean had been released from Madam Pomfrey's clutches early on Monday morning, with urges to come back if he felt in any way faint. Dean knew he wouldn't come back even if he did feel faint. He was a Winchester after all, and Winchesters were stubborn bastards at the best of times. He walked towards the Great Hall and opened the door. The commotion of the students met his ears and he walked between the House tables. He tried to ignore the stares he was getting as he walked up.

The poisoning had been very strange. He remembered waking in the Hospital Wing and hearing about the attempt to take Dumbledore's life.

“It's fine,” Dean said in response to the stares. “I'm alive. I'm like a cat.” He saw his brother roll his eyes at the staff table. Their father was seated to the left of Sam and there was an empty chair between him and Snape. _Just great,_ Dean thought.

 __  
“Well, well, he lives.” Snape remarked coldly. “I’m so glad to see that Dumbledore has someone who will take a bullet for him.”  
“Yeah? It’s called common decency, and if you had any, you would know it.” Dean said before he scarfed down some waffles. 

“Well your appetite hasn't been affected,” John smirked. Dean glared at his father.

“Shut up,” he muttered. John raised an eyebrow. A few moments passed in silence as the Winchesters ate.

“Come on, we gotta call Cas before class starts,” Sam suggested.

 

“Kay,” Dean said, rising. Sam and his father stood. Their relationship had improved over the past couple of days. When Dean had been in the Hospital Wing, Sam had decided to show his father a memory to show him that he understood. It was of when he and Dean had gone back in time to stop Anna from killing him and Mary. John watched the interaction between his son and his younger self and realised that they were in fact very similar in personality. He discovered that Sam understood why John had dragged them out hunting all those years and after he had seen it, it gave him a new understanding of his son. He hoped that this could be the start of something encouraging in their normally dysfunctional relationship.

 

Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry Ron and Hermione watched as Dean, Sam and John left the Great Hall.

“I'm happy he's okay,” Hermione said. Ron nodded.

“Yeah mate, you really acted quickly,” he said to Harry.

“He's our teacher. I had to help him somehow,” Harry replied.  
“Well I'd go as far to say we're friends, “ Hermione said.

“True,” Ron replied.

“That day when they told us was crazy,” Harry said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah it was,” Ron agreed. “The Angel guy, what was his name?” 

“Castiel,” Hermione replied. “But Dean seems to call him Cas a lot.”

“He just stood there for a minute and said he had to go, then disappeared,” Ron said incredulously.

“We remember Ron,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“Lavender's glaring,” Harry noted. The three turned to see the mentioned girl glaring at her ex boyfriend.

“I feel bad for getting rid of her, but she was clinging to me like a Permanent Sticking charm,” Ron grumbled, turning away. The boys didn't see, but Hermione smiled a little.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked down to the Demonology class room, Hermione was in the middle of them and they were talking over her about Quidditch practice strategies. She sighed as she went ahead of them into the class.

“Good morning Miss Granger.” Sam beamed at her.

“Good morning Professor Sam.” She opened her pack and took out her book, quill, and parchment. “What will we be studying today?”

“You’ll see.” Dean smiled mischievously.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at his enthusiasm. Harry and Ron came in with the rest of the class and Sam waited till everyone was in their seat until he began speaking.

“Can anyone tell me about Angels?” Sam looked at them curiously.

“They wear white frilly gowns and play the harp?” Seamus smarted off from the back row.

Just then a gust of wind and a flutter of wings erupted from behind him disrupting the parchment and toppling over a stack of books.

“Angels are warriors of God.” The man in the trench coat scowled at him. “Only a few have taken interest in being a harper.” His face relaxed into a smirk, enjoying his private joke, as he walked down the aisle up to the front of the class where Sam, Dean, and John were waiting.

Sam looked at the mess the Angel’s dramatic entrance had caused. “Well, there goes all the organizing that I spent a week doing.”

 

“Yes, Angels are warriors of God, who you rebelled against.” Dean smirked he regarded the Angel.

“Everyone, I would like to introduce you to Castiel, our special guest lecturer for today.” Sam stepped aside to give Cas the floor.

“Hello human offspring.” Cas formally addressed the class. There was uncomfortable silence. Dean had to turn his back on them to hide his embarrassment. He groaned in frustration and smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.

John turned to Dean. “Does this happen often?” he whispered.

Sam cleared his throat and tried to gain control of the class again. “Ok, does anyone else have a theory about Angels? Anyone besides Seamus?” Hermione raised her hand. “Yes Miss Granger.”

“Angels are supernatural beings found in Christianity, Judaism, Zoroastrianism and Islam. Angel comes from the Latin word _angelus_ , which came from the Greek word, _angelos_ , meaning ‘messenger’. According to these religions Angels typically act as messengers from God. Though superhuman, Angels can assume human form and according to the Hebrew Bible, often appeared to people in the shape of humans of extraordinary beauty. They are also described as pure and bright and are said to be formed of fire, and encompassed by light. Angels are thought to possess wings, and are depicted that way in Christian, Jewish and Zoroastrian art where they are also commonly depicted with halos. In the Bible, Angels are a medium of God's power; they exist to execute God's will. Angels reveal themselves to individuals as well as to the whole nation, to announce events, either good or bad, affecting humans.”

“Wow, kid, keep this up and you could be teaching the class for us.” Dean smirked as he turned to Cas. “She pegged you good.” Cas said nothing but stared straight ahead

 

“That is correct Miss Granger. An Angel is created by God, able to manifest physically on Earth by occupying what is called a vessel. That is the safest and most conventional way for Angels to interact with humans on Earth as their true voices and appearances can kill.” Cas told her. “We are not omniscient beings, although our knowledge, especially that of Archangels, is extensive. Our power exists in the form of grace, which can be removed to be reborn human. Removing the grace, however, is said to be very painful.”

All the student’s, not just Hermione, were frantically scribbling down every word that Cas spoke. “They never paid that much attention to my lectures.” Sam complained quietly.

“"That's why Sammy, they're lectures. Hard to believe you can make hunting boring,” Dean muttered back. “And don’t piss off the nerd Angels.”

“The true form of Angels varies. Some are considered beautiful, others have four faces and six wings.”

“What is your angelic form then?” Cas looked to see who had asked and it was a pale blonde sickly looking boy.

 

“What is your name?” Cas asked him.

“Draco, Draco Malfoy.” The boy stood with a smug smile on his face.

“Well, then Draco Draco Malfoy, my true Angelic form is the size of the Chrysler Building.”

The students looked at one another questioningly.

“It’s a building in New York City.” Sam explained. “Sit down Mr. Malfoy. Please continue Castiel.”

“Most Angels prefer to appear to humans as a brilliant white light, which can burn people’s eyes out sometimes. So for those reasons, we prefer to communicate with humans through dreams or vessels.”

“OK Cas, I think they get the idea. Let’s continue on with what we are going to show them.” Dean patted Cas on the shoulder before he could continue on telling the student’s more creepy stories about Angels.

Sam turned to the Pensive. “Yes, the memory we are going to show you is how we first came to know Castiel and some of the times that he got us out of some tough scrapes.”

“More like saving our asses.” Dean muttered as he stepped in first followed by Cas, John, and the students. Sam brought up the rear.

  
  


__**Dean and Bobby were in an old barn, and hundreds of sigils covered the walls.  
“You sure you did the ritual right?” Dean asked and Bobby gave him a look.  
“Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?” he grinned. **

Sam and John chuckled.

_**Suddenly a loud rattling shook the roof. Dean and Bobby armed themselves with shotguns and took their positions at the far end of the warehouse.  
“Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind,” Dean said sarcastically. The door burst open and Castiel entered. The light bulbs above his head shattered in a shower of sparks as he passed them. As he approached, Dean and Bobby both opened fire, but the shots had no effect. Dean took the demon-killing knife as Castiel got close.** _

“You tried to stab him with the knife?” Sam said with a raised eyebrow.

“It was not effective,” Cas replied. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Duh...”

“ _ **Who are you?” Dean demanded.**_

“ _ **I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” Castiel replied simply.**_

“ _ **Yeah. Thanks for that,” Dean said casually.**_

_**Dean reared back and plunged the knife into Castiel's heart. Castiel looked down and pulled it out, dropping it to the floor. Bobby attacked and without looking, Castiel grabbed Bobby's gun and used it to swing him around. Castiel touched Bobby's forehead with his fingertips and Bobby crumpled to the ground.** _

“ _ **We need to talk, Dean. Alone,” Castiel said quietly.**_

The memory changed. They saw leaning against the Impala. The radio came on, very scratchy.

“ _ **Dean!” Castiel's voice sounded from the car's radio. Dean leaned in the driver’s side window.**_

“ _ **Cas?”**_

“ _ **Yeah, it’s me,” Castiel replied. Dean got back in the car.**_

“ _ **You gotta stop poking around in my dreams. I need some me time,” Dean said, smirking.**_

“ _ **Listen to me very closely. This isn’t a dream,” Castiel replied. Dean looked around.**_

“ _ **Then what is it?” Dean said confusedly.**_

“ _ **Deep down, you already know.” Dean stayed still for a moment, his eyes widening.**_

“ _ **I’m dead,” he breathed.**_

“ _ **Condolences,” Castiel replied.**_

“ _ **Where am I?” Dean asked.**_

“ _ **Heaven,” Castiel told Dean.**_

The memory morphed, and suddenly, they were in the Harvelle's Roadhouse. Ash was behind the counter and Sam and Dean saw themselves sitting there with a drink each.

“ _ **Good God, the Roadhouse. It even smells the same,” Dean said, smiling.**_

“ _ **Bud, blood and beer nuts. It’s the best smell in the world.” He walked behind the bar and snapped his fingers. “How 'bout a cold one? Up here? No hangover.”**_

“ _ **So… no offence-” Sam began.**_

“ _ **How did a dirt bag like me end up in a place like this? I’ve been saved, man. I was my congregation’s number one snake handler,” Ash interrupted. Sam smiled.**_

“ _**And you said this was your heaven?” Sam asked.**_

“ _ **Yup!” Ash grinned. “My own… personal…” Ash shot gunned his beer while Sam and Dean watched with eyebrows raised. He burped.**_

“ _ **And when the Angels jumped us? We were…” Sam trailed off.**_

“ _ **In your heaven,” Ash finished.**_

“ _ **So there’re two heavens?” Sam guessed.**_

“ _ **No. More like a hundred billion. So, no worries, it’ll take those Angel boys a minute to catch up,” Ash grinned.**_

“ _ **What?” Dean asked, confused.**_

“ _ **See, you gotta stop thinking of heaven as one place. It’s more like a butt-load of places all crammed together. Like Disneyland except without all the anti-Semitism,” Ash explained. Dean and Sam still looked confused.**_

“ _ **Disneyland?” Sam asked.**_

“ _ **Mm-hmm. Yeah. See you got Winchesterland. Ashland. A whole mess of everybody-else-lands. Put them all together: heaven. Right? At the center of it all? Is the Magic Kingdom. The Garden.”**_

“ _ **So everybody gets a little slice of paradise,” Dean stated.**_

“ _ **Pretty much. A few people share—special cases. What not,” Ash said.**_

“ _ **What do you mean ‘special’?” Dean asked.**_

“ _ **Aw, you know. Like, uh, soul-mates.” Silence met his statement. Dean and Sam didn't look at each other. “Anyway. Most people can’t leave their own private Idaho’s.”**_

“ _ **But you ain’t most people,” Dean pointed out with a grin.**_

“ _ **Nope. They ain’t got my skills. Hell, I’ve been all over. Johnny Cash. André the Giant. Einstein. Sam, that man can mix a White Russian. Hell, the other day? I found Mallanāga Vātsyāyana.”**_

“ _ **Who?” Sam asked.**_

“ _ **He wrote the Kama Sutra. Huh, that boy’s heaven? Ah, sweaty. Confusing,” Ash smiled.**_

“ _ **All this from a guy who used to sleep on a pool table,” Dean laughed.**_

“ _ **Yeah. Now that I’m dead, I’m living, man, a whole lot more,” Ash smiled as the memory faded.**_

They exited the memory, and the students went to their seats.

“As you saw,” Dean began. “Everyone does get their own slice of heaven. At the centre of it all, there's the Garden. You relive your greatest hits.” 

“Any questions?” Sam asked. A hand rose.

“Yeah?”

Sir how did you end up in heaven in the first place?” Neville Longbottom asked.

“We were shot by hunters,” Sam replied simply.

“Why didn't you boys tell me?” John said, looking at his sons.

“Dad, we've died that many damn times,” Dean said with an air of exasperation. He huffed in amusement and turned to the Angel, who had put a hand to his forehead.

“Cas? You okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Cas replied, “Dean, it is done and they have risen and are here.” 

“Cas what the hell are you talking about?” Sam asked incredulously.

“The war is growing more dangerous. More hunters are needed. The decision has been made to raise hunters from the dead to help with this war.”

“More people back from the dead?” Dean said with a raised eyebrow.

“Who?” Sam asked. The door opened and two women entered. They were around the same height. One of the women had long brown hair, brown eyes and was wearing a grey jacket, black tank top and jeans. The younger woman had long blonde curls framing her beautiful face. She looked around twenty five years old with hazel coloured eyes.

“Hey boys,” Ellen Harvelle smiled. Sam and Dean's eyes were wide.

“Jo, Ellen?” John asked.

“John Winchester,” Ellen replied, looking from the shocked sons to their father.

“You brought them back?” Dean asked, turning to Castiel, who smiled slightly.

“Yes.”

Dean and Sam's minds were in whirls. Jo and Ellen were alive, and according to the trenchcoat wearing Angel, they wouldn't be the only ones coming back. Ellen's last words echoed in his head. _Hey Dean. Kick it in the ass. And... don't miss._

“You gonna just stand there?” Jo said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Jo,” Dean breathed, walking forward. He walked up to Ellen and pulled her into a hug.

“C'mere boy,” Ellen smiled at Sam as she released Dean. Sam walked forward and hugged her. Meanwhile, Dean had turned to Jo and lifted her chin, moulding his lips to hers. Sam pulled from Ellen's hug to see Dean and Jo's lips locked. He smiled. He knew it. Those two had flirted so much and they both had it bad. They separated and Dean noticed Sam's smile.

“Shut up,” he said before Sam could say anything. Ellen cleared her throat.

“So boys, did you kick it in the ass?” Ellen asked.

“No, the Colt didn't work,” Dean sighed. It had been for nothing. The Hellhounds, the bomb... Jo smiled a little at Dean.

“Class dismissed,” he called to the students who had been very curious about what was going on. They grabbed their books and left, muttering to each other.

“I'm good as new,” she said, lifting her tank top to reveal smooth skin where there used to be a gouge in her stomach. 

“That would help,” Dean smirked.  
“It would be nice to have some help since Crowley is assisting the other side,” Sam stated. Castiel stepped forward.

  
  


"The others will be here soon."   
"Others?" Sam asked.  
"Other hunters,” Castiel elaborated.  
"That'd give us an advantage," Jo said.

“True, but who are you bringing back?

“Deanna Campbell, Ash, Daniel Elkins, Pastor Jim Murphy, Caleb, Mark, Johnny and Christian Campbell and Mary Winchester," Castiel said. 

  
  


The three Winchester men's jaws dropped.

“You're bringing back Mom?” Sam said in a shocked tone.

“Yes,” Castiel replied. “She along with everyone else should be here momentarily.”

“You're bringing back hunters. Mary never knew anything, and I know that some of the people you mentioned are part of her family.”

“Dad,” Dean began. “Mom was a hunter. Her whole family was. She hated hunting. She wanted to hide it, have a normal apple pie life.”

“Her whole family are hunters. Samuel tracked them down,” Sam explained.

“Samuel? He died of a heart attack,” John exclaimed.

“No, Yellow eyes killed him. He was brought back around the time Sam was dragged from the Cage,” Dean told him.

“Oh my God...” John breathed. “He actually seems like the hunting type. No wonder he hated me so much.” 

“Look, if what Cas is saying is true, Mom can tell us,” Sam said. Hope flared in his heart. Could his mother really be alive again? He had only gotten fleeting glimpses, old photos, second hand memories of her. Nothing to tie himself to her personally.

The door opened again. The six heads turned to the door as nine people entered. There were seven men and two women. The Winchester brothers gazed at the younger woman with shocked happiness.

  
  


“Mom,” Dean breathed.

“Mary,” John whispered. Mary's eyes widened.

“Sammy? Dean? John?” she whispered as she ran forward, encasing both her sons into a hug only a mother could give. Dean buried his face into her soft blonde curls, something he had never forgotten about her. The tears came but Dean didn't give a damn. He and Sam clutched their mother tighter as they let their emotions go. Sam looked into Mary's face, which had happy tears running down the soft pink cheeks. 

“My babies,” she whispered. She kissed both of them on the cheek. “I'm here angels.” She looked to the man behind her sons and her face broke out in another tearful grin. 

  
  


“John,” she said, and Sam and Dean let go. They knew their father needed this moment too. John stared in shock as tears rolled down his face. He approached Mary and put his arms around her. As if she were made of nothing but porcelain. He kissed her softly on the lips and just held her. All his life he had wanted his wife back. Now he had her in his arms, he didn't know what to think. There was just the mind blowing happiness that filled his entire being. Sam and Dean looked on, wiping their tears on their sleeves. 

  
  


“Why did you never tell me?” John whispered to his wife.

“You didn't need to know. I thought I could escape the life. I'm so sorry John. I should have told you,” Mary said regretfully. She had taken herself away from her boys for God knows how long.

“How long have I been gone?” she asked.

“About twenty seven years,” Dean answered, his throat tight. Sam and Dean smiled a little, which turned into full blown grins. Their mother was here, alive in the flesh. They looked to the others, seeing the Campbells sticking to themselves. John was talking with Pastor Jim and Caleb, smiling as he had an arm around his wife.

  
  


“ _Buenos Dias bitches!_ ” they heard a voice say, and they turned to see Ash grinning at them.

“Ash,” Sam and Dean grinned.

“The one and only,” Ash smirked. “I see you've tried not to get yourselves killed since I last seen you.” Sam laughed.

“Cas,” Dean said, turning to the Angel, who was standing out of the way, watching the humans exchange.

“Yes Dean,” Castiel said, curiously.

“Thank you,” Dean said. “You have no idea...” he trailed off. Castiel stepped forward, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean looked a little shocked about the _human_ reaction from the Angel.

“I only did what was right Dean,” Castiel smiled.

“Come here, you son of a bitch,” Dean grinned, pulling him in for a hug. It was very un-Dean, a chick flick moment, but he didn't care. The Angel had brought back his family and friends, something he had been desperate for, for twenty seven years now. 

  
  


  
  


  
  



	17. Fatal Wounds

**Chapter 17**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 17 th January 2011**

“Where the hell am I?” Bobby Singer shouted. He looked around, looking as hundreds of young eyes fixed on him. He was in the middle of four long tables. One was filled with students in black and green, the next in red and black, and to hid right was a table with yellow and black robed kids and the last group were wearing blue and black. There was a sudden rustling sound before Samuel Campbell appeared, raising a knife.

 

“Bobby Singer?” 

“Samuel,” Bobby said, using all of his strength not to attack the man that was Sam and Dean's grandfather.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” an old man said from the top of the large Hall. “I am Albus Dumbledore.”

“You're the Professor the boys have told me about,” Bobby stated. He turned, seeing the door opening at the front of the Hall

“Bobby?” a voice called. Bobby watched as Dean and Sam walked through.

“Idgits, why'd you bring me here?” Bobby grumbled.

“A little surprise,” Dean smirked. Bobby rolled his eyes. He watched as a figure emerged from the door.

 

“John,” Bobby said in shock. John smiled a little.

“Hey Bobby,” John said walking towards him. The two men hugged before pulling back.

“Long time,” John noted and Bobby snorted.

“The Angels brought back some hunters,” Sam continued. 

“Who?” Bobby asked. 

“I see that Samuel's back,” Dean noted bitterly.

"Now is that the way a grandson talks to his grandfather?" Samuel asked. Dean growled. He walked up to Samuel and glared into his eyes.

"You lost the right to call us your grandsons when you handed us over to Crowley!" Dean snarled so only Samuel could hear. He stepped back, turning to Bobby. 

“Mom, Ellen, Jo, Pastor Jim, Caleb, Ash, Christian, Deanna, Mark and Johnny Campbell and Daniel Elkins,” Sam answered with a smile.

 

"You boys must be in some kind of pickle to call that many hunters back," Bobby said in shock. The blood pounded through his veins as he heard Ellen's name. She was alive. He smiled a little. The gruff hunter had a soft spot for Ellen Harvelle, and in the few months before her death, she and Bobby had began talking a little. They seemed to click at once. Ellen was a match for Bobby's smart ass attitude. Bobby smiled at the glee on each Winchester's face. Sam and Dean had their mother back, and John had his wife.

 

Samuel meanwhile was also in shock. He couldn't believe it. His daughter was alive. He remembered the crushing grief when he had awoken to realise that his daughter was dead. He had no memory of what had happened in Heaven since his death. The last thing he could recall was the demon taking over him and just pain, blinding pain, and then darkness. And his wife, his beautiful Deanna was alive too. He smiled.

 

The doors opened with a loud creak and Samuel saw his daughter enter, along with his wife.

“Mary, Deanna,” he breathed. Mary ran to her father, tears pooling in her eyes and hugged him. Deanna stepped forward as she and Samuel kissed. Mary smiled at her parents as she turned back to her own family. The door edged open again, and she noticed the student's heads turning to look. Ellen and Jo entered, followed by the other hunters. The Campbells immediately went over to Samuel, away from everyone else.

 

“Come on,” Sam said. “We better get somewhere where we can talk this all out.” The Winchesters, Campbells, Harvelles and the other hunters left in a quiet manner, leaving the students and staff talking amongst themselves

 

“Wow,” Ron breathed.

“You can say that again,” Harry agreed.

“Their mother was brought back. They're bound to be shocked,” Hermione said. “Although, I wonder why they were so hostile to their grandfather?”

“Maybe they just had a falling out,” Harry said simply. 

“Maybe,” Ron said in wonder.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Crowley had summoned Castiel to an old circular metal laboratory.   
“What?” Castiel asked in a bored and tired voice. Crowley had so many ‘jobs’ for him to do lately with harvesting the souls that Crowley had promised Voldemort.

  
“Touchy, touchy feathers!” The King of Hell inspected the angel from head to toe. “You should really think about doing something….” He gestured to every part of Castiel. “with that.” He finished.  
“What do you want? I still have some more souls to collect for your army.” Castiel’s eyes bored into Crowley ignoring what he said.   
“Oh it’s not my army.” Crowley mused. “I am merely the silent partner in this little game of ‘War and Peace’.”  
“I don’t understand.” Castiel looked at him puzzled, the first real emotion that he had shown in a long time. 

  
“Oh you angels, you can be so naïve.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “This is the only bit of fun that I get to have while I’m topside here, watching two civilizations annihilate one another is what I live for! Don’t you angels get to have any fun?”Castiel just looked at him with that blank expression that he was known best for. 

“Well anyway, I have a job for you to do.”  
“What now?”  
“I need you to get rid of the Winchester problem.”  
“And by get rid of you mean?”  
“I need you to kill Dean Winchester, now.”  
“Why? He is no threat to you.” Castiel tried to hide his anger and sorrow beneath his calm and composed features.  
“Out of every hunter that I have encountered, he and his brother are the only ones who can stop me from opening purgatory. This is your last chance feathers.” Crowley leaned in close and whispered. “If you don’t kill him, I will.”

“I will not let you hurt Dean,” Castiel growled. Crowley smiled a little. Suddenly, a ring of fire ignited around Castiel.  
“Thought you'd say that,” Crowley said and he disappeared, leaving Castiel alone, at a loss of what to do. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“That's everything,” Dean said. They had told them all everything that had happened, how they were hunters, how John had died, and how they themselves had died and there involvement in the apocalypse. The hunters were left in shock as they absorbed the tsunami worth of information that was given to them. Mary had tears flowing down her cheeks as she heard about her youngest son's stabbing and her eldest's deal. As Dean recalled the memory of Sam's death, he felt his hear constrict painfully at the thought of Sam dead in his arms. They told of the apocalypse, and the parts they played in it. 

  
  


A few hours later, Dean was in the classroom, cleaning up some supplies. The hunters were in various places in the castle, wrapping their heads around what had been told. His Mom, Dad and little brother had left around ten minutes before, to take a walk. Dean didn't feel like it. Today's events had drained him. He was overjoyed to have his family and friends back, but a new fear was beginning to settle in. He could lose them again. He didn't think he could stand that.

  
  


“Hey Dean,” a voice sounded and Dean turned, knife raised. Crowley stood there, smiling. He waved his hand. Dean scowled at Crowley. He approached the hunter.

“You Winchesters have been a thorn in my side,” Crowley sneered. Dean smirked.

“I know, we're just that awesome,” he said cheekily. Crowley grabbed Dean by the throat, and slammed him into the wall.

  
  


“Listen to me you sack of meat. You and your brother will die,” Crowley snarled, and plunged his knife, aiming it at the frantic muscle that was Dean's heart. It would kill him quickly, but to his satisfaction, it would be a painful death. At the last second, Dean moved, and Crowley watched as the metal sunk to the hilt into the area directly under his sternum. He smiled as Dean cried out in agony. He twisted the knife, hearing Dean beginning to moan in pain, nothing but nonsensical mumblings.

  
  


Crowley pulled the knife from Dean's body with a rapid motion and Dean fell to the ground. Blood poured from his abdomen, staining his light grey shirt a deep maroon. His green eyes were unfocused, and blood dripped from his mouth in steady drops. Crowley smiled as he vanished in an air of black smoke, leaving Dean for dead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione Granger walked down the hallway towards her Demonology classroom. Her mind filled with the questions about her homework. An essay describing the power of Angels. She rounded the corner and arrived at the door. She heard a voice speaking in the room.

  
  


“ _Listen to me you sack of meat. You and your brother will die,_ ” the voice snarled. Hermione's breath hitched. She had heard that voice before. She heard a cry of pain, followed by weak pained noises before a thump resounded in her ears. She edged into the room, and gasped. Dean was lying on the ground. He seemed to be barely conscious. His green eyes were nothing but slits as his hands pressed to his abdomen, trying to stem the flow of blood. Hermione dropped to her professor's side.

  
  


“Professor, its going to be okay,” she said, pulling out her wand. 

“ _Vulnera Sanentur_ ,” she said softly. The bleeding seemed to slow slightly, but she couldn't close the wound completely. She needed to find his brother and parents. She stood and raced out of the classroom. She didn't want to leave her professor, but she had to get some help. 

  
  


She ran down the moving stairs in the Grand Staircase Tower. She reached the bottom and left the tower, reaching the Entrance Hall. Just as she was making a run for the main door that led outside, the door opened and she saw Sam and his parents enter. His mother was smiling, and his father was grinning at something.

  
  


“I swear, Jess got such a fright,” Sam was saying with a soft smile. Sam looked up when he saw a panicked Hermione approaching.

“Hermione, what's wrong?” he asked in a concerned tone.

"Professor! Please come quick! Your brother is in trouble! I have done everything I can to stop the bleeding, but he needs help!" Sam's eyes widened.

“Hermione what happened?” he asked urgently.

“He's been stabbed,” she choked out. She saw as the Winchester families faces paled. Sam took off running at once, racing towards the Grand Staircase Tower. Hermione, John and Mary followed. Their faces were pale, worry etched into their faces for their eldest. 

  
  


When they arrived in the Demonology classroom, they found Sam kneeling next to Dean. Sam had two fingers pressed to Dean's carotid artery, and the other was on his bare chest over his heart. Sam must have ripped Dean's shirt, because the grey material was nothing but grey bloodstained strips at his side. It brought the stab wound into horrible clarity. Even from a few feet away, John knew it was bad. Dean was lying in a pool of his own blood that brought his skin into a horrible chalky complexion.

  
  


“What's his heart rate like?” John asked, as he grabbed the shredded material that used to be his shirt and pressed it to his abdomen to help stop the bleeding. The blood was still seeping out, but it didn't seem to be as bad as before.

  
  


“It's rapid, and skipping. I think he's gone into shock,” Sam choked out.   
“Damnit,” John muttered as he turned to the terrified sixteen year old girl.

“Can you get the nurse for us? And some of the hunters. We need some help here,” John said in a forced tone.

  
  


“Of course,” Hermione whispered before leaving the room in nearly a blur. 

Hermione raced down the steps again, checking the clock. It was five o'clock. Dinner time. She ran to the entrance of the Great Hall and slipped inside. She sprinted up to the Head Table. Harry and Ron called after her. The hunters were off to the side, talking about past hunts. 

  
  


“Excuse me, but John really needs your help,” she said. The gruff hunter, Bobby, raised an eyebrow.

“What's wrong with that idgit?” he asked.

“It's Professor Dean. He's been stabbed,” Hermione told them. Ellen and the blonde girl, Jo stood at once, and the women and Bobby left the room with Hermione following after telling Madam Pomfrey. They arrived in the classroom in record time. Madam Pomfrey kneeled down, checking Dean's pulse and breathing.

  
  


“It's a little weak,” she said, pulling out her wand. 

“Tergeo,” she continued and the blood covering Dean's torso siphoned away. “ _Vulnera Sanentur_ , _Vulnera Sanentur_ , _Vulnera Sanentur_ ,” she chanted, smiling a little as the wound before her began to close. 

  
  


“How'd the hell did this happen John?” Bobby exclaimed.

“I don't know,” John admitted, running a hand over his face. “This girl just came out and told us what happened.” Bobby turned to the teenager.

“I heard a man saying he was going to kill Dean, and I heard a thump, and I found him like that,” Hermione said in a shaky voice.

  
  


“Who was talking?” Sam asked, looking up from his brother's face as Madam Pomfrey worked. Hermione thought back, trying to think of who it was. Hermione's eyes went wide.

“It was the man in the suit that was in the Great Hall at Christmas, before Castiel turned up.”

“Crowley,” Sam snarled.

“I'm going to put him on a few doses of a Blood Replenishing Potion and monitor him for a day or two. I will also give him Essence of Dittany, which will minimise scarring,” Madam Pomfrey said to the group.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


Hours had passed and now Dean was in the Hospital Wing. He had responded well to the Blood Replenishing Potion and other potions and spells he was given to fight the different symptoms. Dean was lost in a world of darkness. The air whistled through between his lips and he could feel his heart pulsing steadily beneath his ribs. He groaned.

“Dean? Its okay angel, take your time,” a soft voice said. Dean fought to regain consciousness.

“M-mom,” Dean breathed.

“Yes sweetheart it's me,” Mary said. She squeezed Dean's hand gently from her position at his bedside. Dean's eyes opened slowly, blinking at the bright lights. His mother, father, brother and Jo were at his side.

“Hey kiddo, how you feeling?” John said, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Good I guess, considering,” Dean said, surprised. John smiled back a little. A squeeze of his right hand pressed him to look over. He saw Jo there, smiling.

“When will you ever stop getting yourselves into things?” she asked. Dean smiled back.

“Hey, it's a talent,” he said smiling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


Castiel sat in the middle of the ring of Holy Fire and tried to think of a way to escape when a cloud of black smoke appeared and Crowley stepped out of it. “The deed is done.” He grinned triumphantly as he started wiping the blood off of his knife.  
Castiel stood and glowered at Crowley darkly. “What have you done?”  
“The thing that I asked you to do, that you wouldn’t do.” Crowley muttered as he put the knife down. “With Dean gone, Sam will give up helping the wizards and start hunting me, which will be like finding a straw of hay in a needle stack.”  
“Sam will find you, and kill you, you do know that.” Castiel had to choose his words carefully he didn’t want to tip Crowley off about the advantage that he had given the wizards.  
“Well that’s where we differ on opinions.”  
“Now will you let me out of this?” Castiel approached the edge of the ring of holy fire.  
“Not just yet feathers, I want to make sure that you can’t save Dean this time.”

Castiel went back to the centre of the room and sat back down. Crowley was right, he couldn’t save Dean, not this time.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
The hospital wing was empty except for Dean and his family. It had been about three hours since Crowley had stabbed him.  
“I swear Mr. Winchester. If you don’t start taking care of yourself you will work yourself into an early grave.” Madam Pomfrey muttered as she made Dean take some potion.

  
Dean made a face as the liquid ran down his throat and coughed before saying, “That’s the perks of the job Madam Pomfrey. You might as well reserve this bed especially for me, I’m gonna probably be back here in a few days’ time for something else.” He laughed which caused him pain. Madame Pomfrey sighed, rolled her eyes, and walked back to her office. After a few gasps of air to deal with the pain he saw Ellen standing protectively behind Jo. Jo’s hand was wrapped around Dean’s and hadn’t let go of it.  
“Hi Ellen.” He smiled.  
“Hi Dean.” She smiled back. “You just can’t stand to stay out of trouble can you?”

  
  


“I try to Ma’am.” Dean tried to pull his hand away from Jo. She looked at him questioningly as she let go. Dean cleared his throat as he tried to jerk his head towards Ellen nonchalantly.   
John noticed the interaction between the three of them. 

  
  


“Out of all the scary monsters that you have beaten, you’re afraid of Ellen?” He asked out loud.  
“Yea, She’d shoot my ass if I did something stupid.” Dean grinned at his father.  
“Damn right I would kid.” Ellen smirked as she rubbed Jo’s shoulders.

  
Dean started laughing lightly and then spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing further back talking amongst themselves.   
“What are they doing here?” He rasped, pointing towards the trio of students.   
“Isn’t it enough that they are concerned for their favourite teacher?” Jo smiled playfully as she slapped Dean’s hand down lightly.  
“You should be thanking Hermione.” Sam replied seriously. “If she hadn’t found you when she did...” Sam paused. “I don’t know what would have happened.” Hermione smiled shyly at the mention of her name. She stepped toward the bed so Dean could talk to her.

  
“So I hear that you saved my life.” Dean smiled at her.  
“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” She blushed. “I was coming in to ask you some questions about our Angel essay. When I found you I only tried to stop the bleeding and then went to find your brother.”

  
“That’s pretty good in my opinion.”   
“I guess you have a Guardian Angel after all sir.” Ron piped up. 

  
“Speaking of Guardian Angels,” Dean looked at all the smiling faces that surrounded his bed, his mother, father, brother, his father figure, Bobby, Jo and Ellen, and the three students that he had come to know and love, he realized that there was a face missing. 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean tried to sit up and see if the angel was sulking in a corner, but Jo pushed him back down on the bed. Sam exchanged looks with John and Bobby. 

“He hasn’t shown up yet.”  
“Really?” Dean leaned his head back down on the pillow. “I thought he would have shown up by now.”

“Maybe he was helping someone else?” Mary offered an explanation. To her, it looked like Dean had lost his best friend.   
“You don’t know Cas like we do.” Sam muttered darkly. 

  
“I came as fast as I could!” Came a shocked voice from nowhere.  
A ruffle of feathers announced an Angel’s arrival. Cas appeared behind John and Sam, looking worse than usual.

“Dean.” Cas sighed in relief. “I thought I would be too late. How are you feeling?”  
“Like I just won the Miss World Pageant! How do you think?! Where were you earlier Cas?” Dean shouted at the Angel, he gripped his abdomen and his face twisted with pain as he gasped for air.  
“I’m sorry Dean, I was… detained.” Cas looked down at the floor.

  
“Detained? I’m swimming in my own blood and your excuse is you were detained? Dean said through his teeth.   
“I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?” Cas shouted at him, Sam and Bobby were stunned. Cas had never raised his voice to a shout before.

“I want you to be there for me!” Dean shouted back. “You have really dropped the ball lately Cas! It’s like you don’t even care about us anymore!”  
Cas had nothing to say, because he knew Dean was right. He hadn’t been there for the Winchesters’ lately. 

  
“That’s enough boys.” Mary said after a few seconds of silence. “Dean needs some rest, all this company isn’t good for him. I think we all need to take a breather.”  
“Mary’s right.” Ellen added. “You two can kill each other when Dean is back up to full speed.”  
“Fine.” Dean crossed his arms across his chest and turned away from the angel. His voice was full of hate with a slightly disappointed edge to it.  
“Fine.” Castiel muttered sadly as he disappeared, the gust of wind ruffled the sheets as Dean’s face softened into one of sadness.

  
  


  
  



	18. Twenty Fourth of January

**Chapter 18**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 24 th January 2011**

Dean awoke in his own bed for the first time in a full week. Madam Pomfrey had insisted to keeping him in for the week, much to his chagrin. Sam, John and Mary had taken over the classes after being introduced to the students. From what Dean had heard, it was a funny story. The students had been really freaked out to see so many hunters in the one room. The hunters, like Bobby and the Harvelles stayed just out of sight, listening to the lectures. They would add their own two cents if they wanted, which were the nicer people of the group. Samuel and his family said nothing, just observing without expressions. 

 

Dean scowled. His grandfather came back into their lives, and he expected his grandsons to welcome him back with open arms? Yeah, like that would happen. Samuel had left them to die, fed them to demons so he could have his daughter back. At that time, Dean wanted his mother back with all his heart, but he would never sell out his family. _Family don't end with blood boy,_ Bobby had said, and he was absolutely right. 

 

The past week had been tense. As they had explained the past few years, everyone knew everything. Questions had been asked and answered. They had filled them in on what they knew of Crowley's plans, and Castiel's help to the hunters. Dean remembered the argument with Cas and frowned. He regretted what he said that day. Stress and shock had made him agitated and he needed to take the frustration out on someone, and it turned out to be Cas. The guilt had washed over him as the Angel left, leaving his family to look at him in shock. 

 

Dean happened to look at the calendar this morning and noticed that it was January 24th, his birthday. Birthdays were a big deal if you were hunters. Not that you would get many presents, because being in this line of work they don’t make many friends. No, it meant that you had survived a whole year without getting killed one way or another. Nothing had ever really happened on his birthday. When Sam had gotten older, he had sneaked off to the diner to get a pie, which he would stick a candle in for the annual event. Dean smiled slightly.

 

“Come on Dean, get off your lazy ass!” he heard Jo call from outside the door. He cracked an eye open. Sam had already left.

“Coming,” he called back. He got to his feet and stretched. He threw on clothes quickly and walked to the door, opening it.

“Hey babe,” he grinned. Jo rolled her eyes. They had been together a week now, the night Dean had been stabbed. Cas hadn’t been back since their argument, Dean wanted to make up for what he said. His words were said in anger.

“What's wrong?” Jo asked.

“Really shouldn't have said those things to Cas,” Dean replied.  
“Well if it’s bugging you so much, why don’t you just call him?” Jo offered.  
“I know he wouldn’t answer, he was pretty angry with me.” Dean replied. Besides, what would I say to him? He added to himself.  


All they could do now was thank him for giving them back the hunters and try to face this impending war. As they walked through the halls, Dean envied the younger students who had no idea.  
“Ignorance is bliss Jo,” Dean commented.  
“What?”  
“Nothin',” Dean replied simply. He smiled a little.

"I like birthdays how about you?" he smirked. Jo looked at him, mentally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.

"Yea.... I guess," she said, playing along. They continued walking down the Grand Staircase Hall.

  
  


A few moments passed as Jo and Dean reached the Great Hall, in which they slipped inside. They walked down the middle, again the students watched. Dean's stabbing had been known around the whole castle within an hour. The student body watched in surprise as Dean slipped an arm around Jo's waist.They both walked towards what had come to be known as the 'hunter's table.'

  
  


“Hey Dean,” Sam smiled. “Happy birthday.” He held out a medium sized soft package.

“Thanks Sammy,” Dean grinned. He and Jo sat beside each other. He looked across to see his parents smiling at him. Bobby and Ellen, now a couple were sitting to the right of John. Dean remembered with a smile what Bobby had said when they had told them.

“ _I knew it!” Dean had grinned._

“ _Who asked you to know? The hell with you,” Bobby replied gruffly._

  
  


“Come on, open it,” Sam pressed.

“Hold your horses,” Dean snorted as he began opening the paper. He lifted a black t-shirt from the newspaper. It was plain black, with a red AC/DC logo on the front.

“This is awesome Sammy,” Dean smiled.

“Wait,” Sam said, reaching down and lifting a rectangular box onto the table. 

“A laptop?” Dean asked in surprise.

“Its from Mom, Dad and I,” Sam grinned. “So now you'll probably stop clogging mine with porn.” Dean rolled his eyes, grinning.

  
  


“Thanks Mom, Dad, Sam,” he said gratefully.

“It's enchanted so it'll work like my laptop and our cell phones,” Sam explained. “All you have to do to charge it is point your wand at it and say _Intentio,_ again, the same as our cells _._ ”

“Here son,” Mary smiled, passing a tiny package to him. “Just another little thing from your Dad and I,” she said as she slid it across the table to him. Dean unwrapped it to find a small silver dogtag hanging from a leather chain. He looked at the back of the tag, reading the words.

  
  


_Dean Winchester: January 24_ _th_ _1979 – May 2_ _nd_ _2008, September 18_ _th_ _2008 – present._ Dean examined the simple metal, fingertips tracing over the dates. His birthday, the day the deal came due, which had been on Sam's 26th birthday and the day he came back from Hell.

“Thanks,” Dean smiled. “Come on, let's eat!” he grinned. Sam rolled his eyes. Dean pulled a pie covered with chocolate in front of him. As Dean's arm moved, Jo caught sight of something on his left shoulder.

“Dean, what;s on your shoulder?” Jo asked, pulling the short sleeve of his grey t-shirt up to reveal a burn mark in the shape of a handprint. Jo's eyes widened.

“What the hell is that?” John asked.

“I got it when Cas raised me from Hell,” Dean shrugged and continued eating. He knew that Sam, Bobby, Cas and Anna knew about it, maybe more of the Angels, but not a lot of people knew. It wasn't something he liked to announce. He turned his head to see Jo smiling. She was silent for a few minutes.  
"What are you thinkin' about?" Dean asked.  
"Oh nothing." She smiled, then she started to sing. 

  
  


“ _In the arms of the angel,_ _  
_ _Fly away from here,_ _  
_ _From this dark cold hotel room,_ _  
_ _And the endlessness that you fear,_ _  
_ _You are pulled from the wreckage,_ _  
_ _Of your silent reverie,_ _  
_ _You're in the arms of the angel,_ _  
_ _May you find some comfort here.”_

  
  


By the time Jo had finished, most of the hunters were laughing their heads off. Dean was pouting at his girlfriend.

“Suck it up,” she grinned. Dean smiled. 

  
  


Sam observed his older brother. Dean seemed happier than he had been in years during the past week. His mood was lighter, and he joked more. The depression seemed to be easing slightly. Maybe that was due to having Mom back, or Jo. Sam didn't know. All he cared about was that his big brother was happy.

  
  


“Hey Dean,” Ash called across the table. “Here,” he said, tossing him a book. “All the lore I could find on Angels and Demons, including what I found in Heaven.”

“Thanks Ash, this should come in handy.”

“I'll give you your present later,” Jo whispered in his ear. Dean grinned at her. Sam looked disgusted. Dean laughed at him, and continued eating. They ate in silence. 

  
  


“So what are we gonna show in class?” Sam asked.

“I've been thinking about that...” Dean began. “I think we should teach them about Azazel.” 

“Why bother? He's been dead for almost five years,” Sam replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Because he has a lot of the same powers that white eyed demons have. Plus we know a lot about him... obviously.” Dean replied, looking a little sad at the end. It was almost bearable to think about his mother's death, now that she was back.

“Come on,” Sam said. They both got up and turned to the hunters.  
“Meet us for class,” Dean smiled, before they left.

“What memories should we show them?” Sam asked finally.

“Dad being possessed?” Dean replied.

“Yeah, maybe I could show them abut Jess,” Sam suggested, although he really didn't want to.

“You sure Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Yeah I am,” Sam replied. “We need to show these kids what they could be up against in terms of powerful demons.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Bobby, can we use your memory of Sam getting stabbed?” Dean asked. It was right before the class. The students were due to arrive any minute.  
“Why in the Hell would you want that?” Bobby grumbled. “And why mine?”  
“We are teaching the students about higher level demons, Azazel in particular.” Sam replied.  
Dean grimaced. “And do you really want to see mine?”  
“Yea, alright.” Bobby stepped forward. “But if you do something… unnatural… to me so help me Dean!”   
“Do you think coming back from the dead is natural?” Dean retorted.   
“Good point, just get on with it!” Dean smirked as he pulled out his wand. The thought crossed his mind to give Bobby a pig tail for fun, but thought against it. They had compiled all the memories they needed then; Jessica’s death, John being possessed, Sam getting stabbed, then finally killing that son of a bitch. 

  
The students filed in and took their seats. Bobby, John, Mary, Sam and Dean were standing at the front of the class waiting until everyone was settled before beginning class.   
“Today we are going to talk about higher ranking demons.” Sam spoke to the class.  
“We’ve already covered black eyed demons, but they are nothing compared to the one we are showing you today.” Dean added.  
John, who had taken an interest in teaching the students, spoke up next. “We have named this demon Yellow Eyes, partially because he never told us his name, and for the fact that he has yellow eyes.”

 

“But we found out later that his real name is Azazel. Everyone you see standing here has had an encounter with him.” Dean explained, and then looked at his mother. “One of which was killed by the demon.” _Well, technically two,_ Dean thought, thinking of his father's first death.  
“My girlfriend was also killed by it We are going to show you that memory first.” Sam choked out.   
Mary put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We can show them mine if you want to.”  
“No it’s ok Mom, thanks.” 

  
“After that memory, we will be showing you the time that I was possessed by the demon.” John continued.  
“Then you will see my memory of the aftermath of Yellow Eye’s plot to find a human to open the gates of Hell.” Bobby put in.  
“And then we will finish with my version of finally finishing him off.” Dean grimaced at the thought of dragging out that memory again.

“But before we go in, some notes first.” Sam stepped forward. The whole class groaned as they pulled out their parchment and quills.

“From what we know about Azazel a week prior to his arrival, the geographical area has cattle deaths, electrical storms and temperature fluctuations. His presence also makes clocks stop and electrical devices go haywire.” Sam started.

  
“He’s impervious to Holy Water, possesses human hosts but can also exist in a disembodied form, and has the ability to possess a reaper.” John put in.  
“His abilities include creating and manipulating fire, telekinesis, and the ability to cause internal bleeding and grievous wounds with his mind.” Mary added.  
“He was able to enter my subconscious.” Sam said. “He showed me what really happened to Mom.”

  
  


“He has superhuman strength, and is capable of making deals like your typical crossroads demon, and he’s also impervious to a salt barrier.” Dean finished. “So long story short, it was almost impossible to kill him.”

  
“Does he have any weaknesses?” Malfoy smirked. “How did you kill him? And if you killed him, then why are we talking about it? It’s not like we’ll be fighting him any time soon.”  
“He does have weaknesses, iron stings nasty and this.” Sam said and then pulled out the Colt and slid it across the front desk. “This class, is called the Colt, it’s a gun that can kill almost anything. But you have to have special bullets to use it.”

  
“As for your other questions Mr. Malfoy, we are talking about it because for every one thing we teach you about, there are probably thousands of other nastier pieces of work that haven’t been able to break out of Hell. And you never know what you’ll be up against in the real world.”

“Maybe we should go into the memories now?” Mary noticed the murderous glare that her son was giving the boy and tried to get Dean’s attention.  
“Yea, alright, everyone get in line.” John ordered them. The students got in a line and entered the Pensieve.

Dean drove away from an apartment block.. Sam watched him go with a sigh. He walked towards his apartment and let himself in. 

“ _ **Jess?” he called and closed the door. “You home?” There was a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note. Sam picked one up and ate as as he sneaked into the bedroom, smiling. The shower was running. Sam sat on the bed and his eyes, flopping onto his back. Blood began to drip onto Sam's forehead. He flinched and opened his eyes. He gasped in horror: Jess was pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him and bleeding from her stomach.**_

Sam shuddered, tears forming. John and Mary were looking in terror. John was reliving that terrible night,

“ _ **No!” Sam roared in horror. Jessica burst into flame; the fire spreading across the ceiling. The front door was kicked open to reveal Dean.**_

“ _ **Sam!” he yelled. Sam raised one arm to shield his face.**_

“ _ **Jess!” he screamed. Dean came running into the bedroom.**_

“ _ **Sam! Sam!” he roared. Dean looked up and saw Jess.**_

“ _ **No! No!” Sam yelled desperately. Dean grabbed Sam off the bed and bodily shoved him out the door with Sam struggling all the way.**_

“ _ **Jess! Jess! No!” he roared as flames engulfed the apartment.**_

John's face was pale as he remembered the paramedics trying to pull him back from running into their burning home to try and save his wife again, as his four year old held his baby boy, both shaking and terrified out of their wits. Silent tears fell from Dean's eyes. He knew something bad had happened to Mommy. Sammy was frightened, crying in a high piercing tone. The memory morphed.

They were suddenly in an old cabin. John's eyes were a bright yellow and he had Sam and Dean pinned against the walls.

“ _ **You son of a bitch,” Dean snarled.**_

“ _ **I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?” Sam gasped. The demon possessing John smiled, and turned to face Sam**_

“ _ **You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess?”**_

“ _ **Yeah,” Sam spat. The demon didn't answer, but turned to Dean.**_

“ _ **You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him.” he moved towards Sam. “Been shopping for rings and everything.” The demon turned to the youngest Winchester. “You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”**_

The students were sharing looks. Was this how sadistic this demon was?

“ _ **In the way of what?” Sam snapped.**_

“ _ **My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you,” the demon replied.**_

“Plans?” Mary questioned in worry.

“ _ **Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing,” Dean said sarcastically.**_

Sam sighed. Sometimes his brother couldn't keep his mouth shut.

“ _ **Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth,” the demon laughed as he walked back towards Dean.**_

“ _ **Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Dean smirked.**_

“ _ **You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he’s clearly John’s favourite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.”**_

Dean winced. John looked like he wanted to vomit. 

“ _ **I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted ‘em,” Dean mocked, smiling. The demon looked at Dean. He stepped back and put his head down. When he looked back up Dean suddenly yelled in pain.**_

“No!” Mary cried.

“ _ **Dean! No!” Sam yelled. Dean started to bleed heavily from his chest. Sam began to struggle against the force pinning him.**_

“ _ **Dad! Dad, don’t you let it kill me!” Dean begged as he gasped and groaned in pain. The demon looked at him again and smiled. Dean started screaming in pain.**_

“ _ **Dean! No!” Sam roared. The blood poured from Dean's body. Sam struggled as hard as he could to break free. Blood dripped from Dean's lips.**_

Mary's face was pale as she took in the scene.

“ _ **Dad, please,” he begged before passing out.**_

“ _ **Dean!” Sam yelled.**_

“ _ **Stop,” John whispered desperately, his eyes a normal brown. Sam was suddenly let go. “Stop it.” Sam dived and grabbed the gun off the table. John turned to him, eyes yellow once again, and Sam aimed the gun at him.**_

“ _ **You kill me, you kill Daddy,” the demon smiled.**_

“ _ **I know,” Sam said simply and pulled the trigger, shooting John in the leg. He fell down and Dean collapsed to the ground. Sam ran to his brother.**_

Everyone's eyes were wide in horror.

“ _ **Dean? Dean, hey? Oh God, you’ve lost a lot of blood,” Sam said, shock seeping into his voice.**_

“ _ **Where’s Dad?” Dean rasped.**_

“ _ **He’s right here. He’s right here, Dean,” Sam assured.**_

“ _ **Go check on him,” Dean gasped out. Sam got up and went over to check on his father. He was laying motionless on the floor.**_

“ _ **Dad? Dad?” Sam asked hesitantly. John looked up with a yell.**_

“ _ **Sammy! It’s still alive. It’s inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!” he begged. Sam aimed the gun at John. “Do it now!”**_

“No,” Mary whispered fearfully again.

“ _ **Sam, don’t you do it. Don’t you do it,” Dean rasped from his position.**_

“ _ **You’ve gotta hurry! I can’t hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy..” John continued to beg.**_

“ _ **Sam, no,” Dean choked out.**_

“ _ **You do this! Sammy!! Sam.....” John yelled. The demon suddenly left John in a huge black cloud from his mouth and disappeared through the floor. John looked at Sam accusingly before his head hit the floor in frustration.**_

  
  


The memory morphed. They were in an old cobbled street. Bobby and Dean were .approaching Sam, who was clutching his arm.

“ _ **Sam!” Dean called, relieved.**_

“ _ **Dean!” Sam shouted back. A figure suddenly approached behind Sam.**_

“ _ **Sam, look out!” Dean called. Jake thrust the knife into Sam's spine, severing the cord.**_

“Holy shit,” John exclaimed in shock.

“ _ **No!” Dean roared as he ran towards Sam. Jake twisted the knife, creating a massive wound, before he ran. Sam fell to his knees. As Bobby chased after Jake, Dean slid to the ground in front of Sam. He grabbed at Sam’s clothing, trying to keep him conscious. The memory followed Bobby as he sprinted after Jake.**_

“ _ **You damn son of a bitch,” he called. “Come on and fight ya coward!” Suddenly, a heartbroken**_

_**roar burst through the night.** _

“ _ **SAM!!!!”**_

Tears fell from Mary's eyes as she realised her baby boy was gone at that moment in time, even though he was right beside her. The memory faded.

  
  


_**Ellen, Bobby, Sam and Dean ran behind tombstones in an old graveyard as the doors to a crypt burst open. A large black mass erupted from the other side and shot outward.** _

“ _ **What the hell just happened?!” Dean yelled.**_

“ _ **That's a devil's gate. A damn door to hell!” Ellen yelled in response. The railway was bending.**_

“ _ **Come on! We gotta shut that gate!” Ellen ordered. She and Bobby tried to close the gate, but to no avail. Dean checked the Colt for bullets.**_

“ _ **If the demon gave this to Jake...then maybe...” he said quickly. Thunder crashed and the Yellow Eyed Demon appeared behind Dean. He flung the Colt out of Dean's hand and into his own.**_

“ _ **A boy shouldn't play with Daddy's guns,” Yellow Eyes smiled. He threw Dean into the air, and his head hit a tombstone.**_

“ _ **Dean!” Sam yelled. He let go of the gate door and ran to his brother. Yellow Eyes threw Sam against a nearby tree..**_

“ _ **I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you--knew you had it in you,” he said paralysing Dean. “Sit a spell. So, Dean...I got to thank you. You see, demons can't resurrect people unless a deal is made. I know, red tape--it'll make you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation.” He laughed. “Now, I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake, anyhow. Tell me--have you ever heard the expression, "If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is?"**_

“ _ **You call that deal good?” Dean choked out.**_

“ _ **Well, it's a better shake than your dad ever got. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean...you saw what your brother just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it?” he chuckled. “How certain are you that what you brought back, is 100% pure Sam?” he laughed again. “You of all people should know, that's what's dead, should stay dead. Anyway...thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.”**_

_**As the Yellow Eyed Demon cocked the Colt, a figure grabbed the demon from behind. The body the demon possessed fell to the ground, the gun still in hand, while the figure and the Yellow Eyed Demon wrestled. The demon pushed him to the ground and entered the body once more. When he stood, Dean had the gun pointed at him. He pulled the trigger. The demon convulsed with light and energy from the bullet before falling to the ground, dead.** _

_**Bobby and Ellen managed to close the gate doors and turn to see John Winchester's spirit. John put his hand on Dean's shoulder. Both were crying, while Sam stood on the side and gave his father a nod. With another look at Dean, John stepped back and disappeared.** _

The students exited the Pensieve.

“How the bloody hell was John there?” Ron exclaimed in surprise. Dean smirked a little.

“He escaped Hell. Stubborn bastard to do it.” he grinned.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
A few hours passed which leftthe hunters and staff were in the Great Hall. Dumbledore had been informed of the staff birthday, and organised a dinner for the staff and the hunters. Everyone was in high spirits. 

Sam was deep in thought. He was thinking about the dog tag that his parents had given Dean. The death date read May 2nd 2008, his 24th birthday. So many things had happened on the second of May. His mom making the deal to bring Dad back from the dead in 1973, Dean making his deal in 2008 Dean's death by the Hellhounds in 2009, and finally, Sam himself going to Hell in 2010.

  
  


Around halfway through the meal, the professor that Dean and Sam had barely seen during the year, Professor Trelawney stood. They had heard that she was a psychic, although, not a very good one apparently. Her eyes were wide behind her strange glasses. She appeared to be in a trance, her eyes unfocused. and began to speak in a strange, deep, booming voice.

“ _It shall come to pass that a time of celebration turns to silence. As those fight, some shall fall. The time to vanquish the Dark Lord shall come. Destruction of the soul and the supports will bring about the death of many. Gates shall be opened, monsters spilled, along with blood, tainting waters,_ " she spoke loudly, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and look at her.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered. “Did she just make a predition?” Sam nodded.

“I think so.” Minerva walked towards the hunters.  
“I wouldn't take much trust in what Sybill predicts.. she is rather... unreliable when it comes to predictions,” she told them, although she was slightly worried. This seemed to be a real prediction.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


Later, Jo and Dean sat on the bed in his room. Jo sat in Dean's lap, smiling at him. She kissed his cheek.

  
“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled back. “Do I get my present now?” he asked with a coy grin.

“Yeah you do,” Jo smirked, crashing their lips together. Dean groaned a little as his tongue entwined with hers. He lowered her to the bed and began kissing every inch of her he could reach. Dean smiled as she let out a gasp.

“Teasing bastard,” she joked. Dean let out a groan of approval.

  
  


In Dean's experience, sex was just a casual thing. This time, it was different. Although it was romantic, it was hunger that ignited between them and made it all the more sweeter. He loved the woman that he held in his arms. The night was led with an experience that was nothing short of bliss. A few hours after it had started, Jo was smiling as her head lay on Dean's chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heart as she drifted into sleep. Dean's last thought ran though his head as he succumbed into darkness.

  
  


_Ellen is going to kill me._

But there was one main aspect. Dean didn't give a damn.


	19. Your Wildest Dreams Come True?

**Chapter 19**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 5 th February 2011**

Jo Harvelle groaned. She came back to consciousness, very aware that her senses seemed to be more intense. She could see the bright sunlight through her closed eye lids; feel it’s warmth on her skin. She could also feel the gnashing of teeth on her neck replaced by soft kisses. She realized that it was Dean. 

  
“Dean.” She complained as she tried to push him off. “Quit being such a pervert.”  
“Oh come on, you know you love it.” He grinned as he pulled her closer.  
She started laughing and struggling to get away from him, “Dean quit it!”   
He took that as an invitation to pick on her more. “Come on Harvelle, last night was just magical wasn’t it?” 

“It was but if you don’t let me go, I’ll be forced to use drastic measures.” Then her laughing was cut short as she struggled even harder to get away. 

“Dean, let me go!” she physically started hitting him. Dean thought she was still playing and didn’t notice that she was actually in pain. “Ok, ok sheesh, you win.” He let her go and she went straight for the bathroom. 

“Jo?” He called after her. The sound of her retching in the toilet made him bolt out of bed and pound on the door. This had been the fourth time in the past three days that she had gotten sick. 

 

“Jo, what’s going on?”  
“I’m fine Dean don’t worry about it!” She muttered weakly.  
“Like hell I am.” He grit his teeth. “If you don’t open this door I’m gonna break it down!”  
Dean heard a sigh from the other side of the door and the lock clicked. He went in to find Jo sitting on the floor wiping sweat off her forehead.  
“Is everything ok Jo?” He leaned down and checked her forehead. He didn’t know why he was supposed to do that, it was what he’d seen people do before when someone was sick.

  
“Everything is fine Dean. I guess this wizard food doesn’t agree with me.” Jo smiled. She seemed to be back to normal. But with everything happening lately, Dumbledore nearly being assassinated, and the brother’s impressive track history with mysterious illnesses he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  
  


“Come on, were going to see Madame Pomfrey.” Dean said as he offered her a hand.  
“I said I’m fine Dean, there’s no need to worry!” Jo complained, not taking his hand. That was her way, not wanting to be fussed over, the product of Ellen’s tiger mom training.  
“Well, were going.” He scooped her up and walked out the door. “Whether you like it or not.”  
“Dean! Put me down!” She started pulling at his hands for him to let go.  
“Not happening.” He grunted as she started hitting him.   
The student’s gave them some strange looks as they walked down the halls.  
Dean was pacing outside the doors to the hospital wing wondering what was wrong with Jo.

  
  


_What if she's really sick?_ He thought. _She could have a ghost sickness or something like that. She could be possessed, a stomach virus. Will she be okay? She'd better be._ Dean usually wasn't one to worry so much, but Jo wasn't just a normal girl to him. He loved her and would do anything to keep her safe.

  
The door creaked open and Madame Pomfrey came out with a rueful smile on her face.  
“What’s wrong, is she ok?” Dean asked before she could say anything.  
“They are just fine.” She smiled.  
“They? What are you talking about?” The only thing on Dean’s mind was that she was possessed.

“She’s waiting for you.” Madame Pomfrey stepped out of his way and walked down the hall.  
He walked in the Hospital Wing to see Jo lying on the bed, bathed in warm sunshine with a small smile on her face. 

  
  


“Hey Dean.”  
“Jo, what the Hell is going on?” Dean rushed over to her side and held her hand.

“Watch the language. You are going to have to stop that. It’s bad for the baby.” Dean paid more attention to her body movements now. She looked positively glowing and her other hand that wasn’t being strangled to death by Dean’s was wrapped around her stomach.

  
“Oh my God….” Dean ran his fingers through his hair as the realization dawned on him. He backed away from her and looked up to the ceiling, holding his head. “OH MY GOD! You're pregnant!” He started laughing as he came back to her. She laughed. 

“Do you want to feel?” He gingerly reached out to touch her stomach. Honestly, he didn’t feel anything, but he wasn’t going to ruin the moment.  
“Wow, I did this. For once in my life I did a good thing.” Dean smiled. “And the world didn’t come to an end because of it.”  
“You know my mom is gonna kill you right?” Jo brought him down from his happy cloud.   
“Son of a bitch!” he muttered.

"Dean." Jo reminded him as she pointed to her stomach.  
"Right, sorry little guy."  
"What makes you so sure it's a boy?"  
"I know things!" Jo rolled her eyes.

“We'd better tell the family,” she started. 

“Uh oh,” Dean muttered. 

“Cone on you wuss,” Jo smirked. Dean followed her from the Hospital Wing. Dean slipped a hand around her waist, resting gently on her stomach. They walked down the corridors and stairs.

“I hate the way these damn stairs never stop moving,” Jo grumbled. Dean chuckled.

“Hormones setting in?” he grinned. Jo glared at him. By this time, they had reached the Great Hall.

 

“Time to shine,” Jo mumbled. Dean gulped. Dean pushed the door open and walked inside. They walked to the hunter's table in silence, nervousness tugging at them. For a moment, Jo thought she was going to be sick again. 

 

“Hey Dean,” the youngest Winchester greeted. “You look happy,” he noted as he took in Dean's grin.

“I'm fine,” Dean smiled as he sat down. “Hey Sam, where do you think we'd get a crib around here?” he asked. “Well we don't need it for around 8 months so it's okay.”

“A crib? What would you need a crib-” Sam trailed off as his eyes widened. Dean looked over to his parents that sat across from them, their eyes wide.

 

“You're pregnant?” Mary whispered to Jo. She took a deep breath and nodded. Mary's eyes filled with tears as she got up and hugged them both. “I'm so happy for you both.” She kissed her eldest son's cheek. John smiled and clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. 

 

“Kid, I want to talk to you outside.”All eyes turned to Ellen as she spoke. Dean took a deep breath and got up. He walked to the side, into the adjoining room.

“What the hell?” Ellen said, pushing him back a few inches. “You got my girl pregnant!”

“Ellen, I-” Dean began. Ellen cut him off. She raised a shotgun. Dean put his hands up.

“I could throttle you!” she snarled. 

“Ellen, I swear. I won't hurt her. I love her,” he told her. “I didn't realise it until those damn Hellhounds got at her and she was hurt.” It was the first time he had told her this, and he saw Ellen's brown eyes soften slightly before she ran a hand through her hair.

“You ever do hurt her, boy, and you wont live,” she threatened, punctuating the three last words with a sharp poke in his sternum. “Understood?”

“Yes ma’am” he said, and she let him go. They walked back into the Hall, and the hunters looked at them. Jo smiled a little, happy that her mother hadn't killed him. The hunters began cheering.

“Congratulations!” Jim called from down the table.

“Thanks Jim,” Dean smiled.

“When did you find out?” Mary asked, her eyes sparkling.

“This morning,” Jo smiled.

 

Dean was still thinking, trying to wrap his head around it. Jo was pregnant, having a baby. He was going to be a Dad. He smiled to himself. If you had asked him two weeks ago if he would be a father, he would have scoffed. Now, his mind was whirling. Would the baby be a boy or a girl? Dean had said to Jo that he thought he would have a boy, but secretly, he was hoping for a baby girl. If he had a girl, she would _never_ date. This also brought up a horrible realisation. This baby would be born during this war. He had to try and keep Jo safe. He couldn't bear to lose either of them, as well as his family. 

 

“I'm gonna be an uncle!” Sam said grinning. Dean saw as several students looked up, including Harry, Ron and Hermione. Dean kissed Jo on the cheek as the bell rang.

“Come on, we have Djinns to teach about,” he said. Jo, Sam, Dean, Mary and John got up and left the Great Hall.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Hey class,” Sam announced. “Today we're gonna learn about Djinns. Anyone know what they are?” No one answered.

 

“Okay, Djinns are human like creatures with tattooed skin that prefer to live in large ruins with a lot of places to hide.They feed on human blood and can poison their victims with a touch. Their poison causes reality-altering hallucinations and can be used either to kill their victims quickly,or to leave victims in a coma-like state while the Djinn feeds on their blood over a long period of time,” Dean explained. “Turn to page 149.” There was a sudden scramble for books and parchment. Dean turned to the page he had mentioned and began reading.

 

“ _Djinn are best classified as genies and are able to read a person's mind to learn their deepest desires but the Djinn do not truly grant wishes. Instead, they send their victims into a_ _fantasy universe_ _where they believe their wish has been granted while the Djinn can drink their blood slowly over the course of days. Time passes slowly enough in the fantasy universe that the Djinn's victims will feel as if they're living an entire lifetime before their physical bodies die._ _When Djinn access their powers, either their eyes and hands glow blue,_ _or their tattoos move and extend down their arms. There is a variant form that possesses the same powers and weaknesses, but turns the victim's insides to "jelly" and feeds on fear rather than happiness. To this effect, they trap people in hallucinations of their worst nightmares rather than their happy dreams. They can Can poison others with a touch. Their poison causes hallucinations that the Djinn can control In large doses, it can cause death. They can read a person's mind to learn their deepest desires. Their weaknesses are silver and lamb's blood. A silver knife dipped in lamb's blood can kill them,_ ” Dean read.

 

“We have only come in contact with a Djinn once, when it attacked and drugged Dean,” Sam explained. 

“No, it was twice,” Dean corrected. “It was how we reunited after... you know.” Sam nodded.

“Right, the memory we're gonna show you is from my attack around five years ago,” Dean went on. The students lined up as normal, and were transported into a memory. 

 

_**Dean was sitting on the steps of a family home, smiling as he held a beer, drinking from it. A car drove up outside the yard.** _

“ _ **I don't believe it,” Dean breathed. He got up. Sam and Jessica got out of the car. Sam was dressed differently, just in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Dean attacked Jess with a hug while Sam took out the luggage from the trunk.**_

“ _ **Jessica,” Dean smiled.**_

“ _ **You're, uh... Good to see you too, Dean.” Jess replied. Dean laughed. “Can't breathe.” Dean let go quickly.**_

“ _ **Sammy,” Dean smiled.**_

“ _ **Hey,” Sam replied.**_

“ _ **Look at you. You're with Jessica, it's - I don't believe it,” he laughed.**_

“ _ **Yeah,” Sam agreed.**_

“ _ **Where'd you guys come from?” Dean asked in a confused voice.**_

“ _ **We just flew in from... Califor–“ Sam began but Dean cut him off.**_

“ _ **California! Stanford. Huh? Law school, I bet,” Dean grinned. Sam motioned to the beer in Dean's hand. “I see you started off Mom's birthday with a bang as usual,” he noted.**_

“ _ **Wait. Mom's birthday, that's today?” Dean said, eyes widening.**_

“ _ **Yeah. Yeah, Dean. That's today. That's why we're here. Don't tell me you forgot.”**_

“ _ **Wha...” Dean said in shock, eyes cast down.**_

The memory faded, to reveal a restaurant. Everyone was in their best, standing at the table.

_**Over Sam's shoulder, Dean saw a girl. The others did not notice her. He brushed past Sam and walked over. Sam turned around. Dean passed a lot of people and suddenly, the girl was gone. Dean turned around to see his family looking at him with concern.** _

The memory again faded. It reformed to show Dean standing in front of a grave.

_**The grave read John E. Winchester, 1954-2006 Loving husband and father, remembered forever.** _

“ _ **All of them. Everyone that you saved, everyone Sammy and I saved. They're all dead. And there's this woman that's haunting me. I don't know why. I don't know what the connection is, not yet anyway. It's like my old life is coming after me or something. Like it like it doesn't want me to be happy. Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but... So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right? But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?” His voice thickened as he started to cry. “What about us, huh? Mom's not supposed to live her life. Sammy's not supposed to get married. Why do we have to sacrifice everything, dad?” he paused. “It's... Yeah...” Dean finished, a tear dripping from his eye.**_ __ **  
**  
  


The memory blurred, and suddenly, they were in an old warehouse. Dean was holding a knife. Jessica, Mary, Carmen and Sam were around him.

_**"Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough? I'm begging you,” he breathed. “Give me the knife.” Dean looked at Carmen, Sam and Mary, tears in his eyes. He backed away looking at the floor. He raised his head, looking at Sam.** _

_**I'm sorry,” Dean whispered. He thrust the knife into his torso. Blood spat from between his lips.** _

“ _ **DEAN! DEAN! Dean,” Sam was saying. Suddenly, they were in the same room, but Dean was hanging from the ceiling eyes open. A blood bag hung next to him.**_

“ _ **Oh God. Come on,” he said, shaking him. “Hey. Wake up. Wake up, damn it!” Dean grunted a little. His eyes focused on Sam.**_

“ _ **Hey. Hey,” Sam smiled a little.**_

“ _ **Ahh... Auntie Em. There's no place like home,” Dean breathed.**_

“ _ **Thank God. Thought I lost you for a second,” he said, pulling out the tube in Dean's throat**_

“ _ **You almost did,” Dean replied.**_

“ _ **Oh god. Let's get you down,” Sam said, breathing heavily. Sam reached up and started to cut through the rope as Dean winced in pain and grunted. Two bright blue eyes shone next to Sam in the shadows, and the Djinn sprung.**_

“ _ **Sam!” Dean yelled. Sam turned around, attacking the Djinn with his blood covered knife. The Djinn had Sam for a moment and Sam dropped the knife. Dean tried to pull himself loose. The Djinn got the upper hand on Sam and had him by the throat. He moved his hand to his forehead, but Sam had a hold of his wrist. The Djinn opened his fist and blue light appeared around his hand. Dean thrust the knife into the back of the Djinn. It turned and the blue light went out of its eyes. It fell to the ground, dead.**_

The memory faded. They were all back in the classroom.

“That's basically everything,” Dean said “No homework tonight,” he said and the students smiled. The bell rang and they began filing out. Hermione Harry and Ron approached.

“Hey guys,” Dean smiled.

“Hello sir. Congratulations,” Hermione blushed. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“How'd you find out?” he asked.

“A lot of us heard Sam saying he was going to be an uncle at breakfast,” Harry supplied.

“Thanks,” Dean smiled.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Later, Sam stood in his room. He was alone, lost in thought. He was going to be an uncle. He remembered years ago, when Jessica was alive. They had been trying for a baby for months before her death. What Sam would have given to be in Dean's position right now. Sam had wanted a normal life, to marry Jessica, have kids and become a lawyer. Life never worked out the way he wanted though.

  
  


Then came the Djinns. Dean had said that one had come for him, and it was how he and Dean had reunited. Had they come when Dean was with Lisa and Ben? He felt his forehead starting to pulse painfully. Crap. He had been thinking about the reunion with Dean after he went to Hell, where his soulless self had gone to Dean. He knew he'd accidentally done it before it hit. When it did, he fell to the ground, muscles contracting rapidly, shaking with an intense pain running through his body. He heard Lucifer's voice in his head, laughing and jeering, just like in the Cage. His muscles shook with pain, but eventually it subsided. He lay on the floor for a long while, breathing heavily. He pulled himself up on the bed and just sat there. He had cracked the wall, again. Shit. 

A knock on the door broke his thoughts.

“Sam, you coming out for a drink?” Dean called.

“You trying to flirt Dean?” Sam teased, trying to make his voice sound normal. “Sorry, but you have a girlfriend, a pregnant girlfriend.”

“Shut up you smartass,” Dean grumbled through the door. “You coming with Jo, Mom, Dad and I?”

“Okay,” he said, getting up. He felt weak and tired. He got a glance at himself in the mirror as he went to the door. He was pale and a little drawn.

“You alright?” Dean asked when he opened the door, taking in Sam's appearance. 

“Yeah. I'm fine,” Sam replied. Something in his expression stopped Dean from questioning Sam further. __**  
**  
  



	20. Being Noble

**Chapter 20**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 14 th March 2011**

John Winchester took a deep breath as he prepared to knock on the door. He wasn't normally a nervous man. He faced creatures that would make grown men pee themselves over. He needed to talk to her about it. It had to be done. He knocked. A voice drifted through the wooden door.

 

“Stop complaining that you're sick, Joanna Beth Harvelle. Did you think I complained that much when I was pregnant with you?” he heard Ellen grumble loudly. The voice rose in volume, telling John that she was about to answer. The door opened.

“John,” Ellen said.

“Ellen, I need to talk to you,” John replied. 

“About what?” Ellen asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Come on, I don't want Jo to hear this,” he said, causing Ellen to glare. She followed John down the steps, outside, and they ended up in the grounds.

 

"You know were going to have to talk about it sooner or later Ellen," John sighed. “You know as well as I do that I haven't been in the roadhouse since...” he trailed off.

“What are you getting at Winchester?” Ellen snapped.

“About Bill,” John sighed. “About what happened that night. Ellen, I have wished every day since it happened that I could change it, that the damn thing would have taken me instead.” John sighed. How could he make it up to Ellen? Just saying ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cover it. “I was a fool for not checking that salt line, if I had just done that, or if it had been me instead of Bill…”  


“Shut up Winchester.” Ellen had turned away from him, holding her arms across her chest and grabbing her arms, almost as if she was trying to hold herself together. “I don’t need your pity, or your crap. Why do you want to drag this out now after all these years?”  
“Because our children are starting a family together, and I don’t want there to be any bad blood between us. I mean look at my boys, they can’t stand the sight of their own grandfather because his daughter married me!” John put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want this child to hate one or the other of us because of this.” Ellen shook off his hand. 

 

“What happened to Bill was one of the darker sides of the job.” She whispered. “You did a good thing that night John, whether you believe me or not. You stopped the hell spawn from being released into the world. ‘The life of one for one billion.’” She turned to face him, silent tears gliding down her face. She turned away, leaving John stunned as she went back to her room. John sighed to himself. He walked back inside and found Mary in the Entrance Hall. He smiled.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“You don't want to get rid of the wizard who killed Lily Evans?”  
“Harry, Harry, of course I do, but-”  
“You're scared he'll find out you helped me?” Slughorn said nothing; he looked terrified.  
“Be brave like my mother, Professor...” Slughorn raised a pudgy hand and pressed his shaking fingers to his mouth; he looked for a moment like an enormously overgrown baby.  
“I am not proud...” he whispered through his fingers. “I am ashamed of what--of what that memory shows... I think I may have done great damage that day...”  
“You'd cancel out anything you did by giving me the memory,” said Harry. “It would be a very brave and noble thing to do.” Hagrid twitched in his sleep and snored on. Slughorn and Harry stared at each other over the guttering candle. There was a long, long silence, but Felix Felicis told Harry to wait.  


Slughorn put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wand. He put his other hand inside his cloak and took out a small, empty bottle. Still looking into Harry's eyes, Slughorn touched the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrew it, so that a long, silver thread of memory came away too, clinging to the wand tip. Longer and longer the memory stretched until it broke and swung, silvery bright, from the wand. Slughorn lowered it into the bottle where it coiled, then spread, swirling like gas. He corked the bottle with a trembling hand and then passed it across the table to Harry.  
“Thank you very much, Professor.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The fifteenth of March arrived bringing a blast of sun with it. Dean stood in the Demonology classroom, beside the Pensieve. It was around five minutes before class, and he saw Jo, Sam, his parents, and Ellen file in. He raised the wand to his temple and focused on his memories. As he pulled the strand from his mind, the silver thread changed colour, forming a red wisp as it fell into the Pensieve. It only lasted a mere two seconds before it changed to it's normal silver. The bell rang.

“You OK Dean?” Sam asked from behind him.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Dean said, turning around to face his younger brother. The students began filing in, sitting down in their usual places.

“Hey guys,” Dean announced. “Today we're going to be studying the Apocalypse.” There was a chorus of murmurs that ran through all thirty students. 

“The Apocalypse is basically the end of the world. Lucifer brings the Apocalypse. But to raise Lucifer, sixty six out of over 600 possible seals must be broken. The seals are like locks on a door, lock to Lucifer's Cage. The last of the sixty six breaks, and Lucifer walks free. When Lucifer comes up, he brings the Horsemen of the Apocalypse with him. Famine, War, Pestilence and finally Death.”

 

“The main point of the Apocalypse is a fight between the Archangel Michael and his brother, Archangel Lucifer, who went against God and was cast into Hell, and this fight would destroy the world. The thing is, both Lucifer and Michael needed vessels to inhabit. I was Lucifer's true vessel, and Dean was originally Michael's, because both vessels had to be brothers. But Dean refused to do it, and they brought our half brother, Adam, back from the dead to house Michael. I let Lucifer in, as Angels need to be given permission to enter a vessel. I managed to get control of Lucifer and I pulled Lucifer, Michael, who was still in Adam, back into Lucifer's Cage,” Sam explained.

"So it's like a Cain and Abel thing right?” Lavender Brown asked from the middle of the class.

“Kinda,” Sam smiled a little. 

 

“Sir, what are the actual seals? What kind of things have to happen for a seal to break?” Hermione asked.

“Well the first and last seals are specific, but the other sixty four can be in any order, or any of the rest of the seals,” Dean explained. “The first seal was ' _And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.'_ When I went to Hell, I said yes to torturing after three months, or thirty years in Hell, of the torture myself, and I broke the first seal. Another example is the Rise of the Witnesses, when souls of people that hunters couldn't save come after them and kill them. The last seal was to kill the very first demon, Lilith. Sam was deceived into killing her.” Dean looked over to see Sam's eyes looking down at the ground.

 

“We're going to be showing you a couple of memories. The first seal breaking, the last, and Lucifer's re-imprisonment in the Cage,” Sam said, looking at his brother worriedly, his heart pounding against his ribs. His face was pale at the thought of seeing Dean in Hell. When he had read the last of Chuck's books, _No Rest for the Wicked,_ he had vomited after reading the descriptions of Dean in Hell just as the chapter ended, before going on to the chapter about the aftermath of Dean's death from Sam's perspective.

“Line up,” John said, speaking up for the first time. The students got in an orderly line and one by one, entered the Pensieve, with the Winchesters and Harvelles following quickly.

 

_**Dean was in an endless abyss, head bowed. Green tinged clouds stretched on forever. Thick black chains ran in all directions, criss-crossing. The chains attached to large metal hooks, where they pierced though Dean's body. One was through his trapezius muscle, where his neck met his shoulder. Another two hooks went through both of his wrists, and another two sliced through his feet. The largest hook went straight through his torso, drenched in blood. Dean's body moved slightly, and the hooks pulled on skin. Dean cried out. He raised his head, and some of the skin was carved from bone. He was panting, glaring at the demon before him.** _

“ _ **What do you think Dean?” the demon almost cooed, smiling as he dug the knife into Dean's chest, as Dean's soul roared in agony.**_

Everyone was looking at the scene before them, faces green, like they were going to vomit.

“ _ **Stick it where the sun shines Alastair,” Dean panted through the agony. His eyes were telling a different story. Alastair removed the knife and raised it in the air.**_

“ _ **Maybe we can change your mind,” he simpered, before thrusting the boiling hot knife back inside, carving his chest apart like a piece of soft butter. Dean screamed louder in agony trying to get away from it, but when he moved his arms and legs, the hooks pulled against muscle and bone.**_

“ _ **Yes! Yes you son of a bitch!” Dean screamed. Alastair smiled.**_

“ _ **That's all I need to hear,” he grinned.**_

John looked at his son. No wonder his eldest had cracked and said yes. The torture Alastair had put upon Dean had been worse than John's torture had ever been. Whether it was up to strength or the will to keep fighting, he didn't know. 

 

The memory faded, thankfully. Sam paled when he saw the next location.

_**Sam was in an old convent. He faced Lilith, who was thrown against the stone table. Dean came around a corner and saw what was happening in the sanctuary. Ruby looked back at Dean and smiled. She put a hand out and the doors to the sanctuary slammed shut.  
“Sam!” he yelled, pounding on the door. Inside the sanctuary, Sam held his hand out and Lilith convulsed, white light shining on her as she cried out in pain. Sam lowered his hand and the light faded.** _

“ _ **Sam!” Dean's voice pelted through the doors, followed by banging. Sam looked at the door.**_

“ __ **Dean?” Sam breathed,**  
“What are you waiting for?! Now! Sam, now!” Ruby was yelling. Lilith began laughing.  
  
  


“ _ **You turned yourself into a freak. A monster. And now you're not gonna bite? I'm sorry, but that is honestly adorable,” she mocked as Sam faced her again, raising his hand. His eyes suddenly turned black. Lilith convulsed several times, her body glowing and flickering. She went limp and the black drained from Sam's eyes. His chest was heaving as blood started to stream from Lilith in a pattern.**_ The memory blurred slightly before refocusing. __**The door burst open and broke in drawing the knife. Ruby, who was kneeling in front of Sam, stood.  
**  
  


“ _ **You're too late,” she smiled. Dean glared at her, advancing.**_

“ _ **I don't care,” he snarled. Sam grabbed her from behind, holding her in place as Dean stabbed her, twisting the knife before pulling it out roughly. She crumpled to the floor, dead.**_

“ _ **I'm sorry,” Sam said brokenly. The blood that poured out of Lilith finished its pattern on the floor. A brilliant white light shot up from the central point and the convent began to tremble.**_

“ _ **Sammy, let's go,” Dean yelled.**_ The memory faded.

It refocused, and they were standing in a field. 

“This was when I was possessed by Lucifer,” Sam said, closing his eyes for a moment.

_**Dean was standing, looking at Sam and Adam's forms as they glared at each other.** _

“ __ **Hey. We need to talk,” Dean said.**  
“Dean,” Lucifer, in Sam's body, noticed. “Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.”  
“I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Sam,” Dean growled.  
“You're no longer the vessel, Dean. You got no right to be here,” Michael in Adam's body replied, glaring. Dean looked at him.

“ __ **Adam, if you're in there somewhere, I am so sorry,” he said softly.**  
“Adam isn't home right now,” Michael smiled.  
“Well, then you're next on my list, buttercup. But right now, I need five minutes with him,” Dean said, pointing at Sam.  
“You little maggot. You are no longer a part of this story!” Michael said angrily.  
“Hey, ass-butt!” Castiel yelled. Castiel threw a flaming bottle at Michael, who screamed as he went up in flames.  
“Ass-butt?” Dean said incredulously.  
“He'll be back -- and upset -- but you got your five minutes,” Castiel said.  
“Castiel. Did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?” Lucifer said dangerously.  
“Uh... no,” Castiel said awkwardly.  
“No one dicks with Michael but me,” Lucifer snarled. He snapped his fingers and Castiel exploded in in a rain of blood and chunks of meat.  
“Sammy, can you hear me?” Dean said desperately.  
“You know... I tried to be nice... for Sammy's sake. But you... are such a pain... in my ass,” Lucifer said as he approached Dean. He threw him onto the windshield of the Impala, which shattered. Bobby shot Lucifer several times in the back. When Lucifer turned to face Bobby, he shot him again in the chest. Lucifer twisted his hand and Bobby's head shot to the side, neck breaking. His body fell to the ground.  
“No!” Dean roared. Lucifer pulled Dean towards him, off the hood of the Impala.  
“Yes,” he snarled before he punched Dean hard. Dean fell back against the Impala, spitting blood.  
“Sammy? Are you in there?” Dean choked out through the blood.

 __ ****  
“Oh, he's in here, all right,” Lucifer smiled. He punched Dean again. “And he's gonna feel the snap of your bones,” he snarled. He swung another punch. Dean fell to the ground. “Every single one.” He hauled Dean to his feet. “We're gonna take our time,” he said with a smile. Lucifer punched Dean a several more times. Dean put a hand out to grab Lucifer's jacket.  
  
  


“ _ **Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you,” he begged. “I'm not gonna leave you.” Lucifer drew back his fist for another punch. Sunlight glinted off the roof of the Impala, catching Lucifer's eye. Lucifer spotted the little green army man stuck in the ashtray of the Impala. His fist unclenched. Sam let go of Dean, who fell to the ground against the Impala.  
“It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him,” Sam gasped. He took out the Horsemen's rings and tossed them on the ground. He said the spell and the ground caved in around the rings and air was sucked into the hole. Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam took a deep breath.**_

  
  


“ __ **Sam! It's not gonna end this way! Step back!” Michael said loudly.  
“You're gonna have to make me!” Sam yelled.  
“I have to fight my brother, Sam! Here and now! It's my destiny!” Michael pressed. Sam looked at Dean, closing his eyes and spreading his arms wide. Michael lunged forward and grabbed Sam's jacket. Sam grabbed Michael's arm and they fell together into the hole. The hole closed in a blinding flash of light.**

The memory faded, revealing the large classroom. Dean took a deep breath, fighting sudden nausea.

“That was harder to watch than I thought,” Dean noted. He watched the students as they took their seats, looking shocked and some, sickened. He felt his stomach twist as the memories ran through his mind.

“As you just saw, those were the main events of the Apocalypse and how we managed to stop it,” Sam said, not meeting his father's suspicious eyes. He hadn't mentioned anything about the demon blood of the power it had given him. 

“Sir, how did you cope? In Hell,” a girl from the middle row asked.

“Booze... a lot of it,” Dean replied, seeing his brother give him a look. His stomach lurched. “One minute,” he said, before walking up the steps to their joined office. He turned to the small bathroom and bent over the toilet, vomiting everything he had eaten. His head throbbed from the mere memories of everything that had happened in Hell. 

“Class dismissed,” Sam announced as the bell went. He went up the steps, but stopped as he heard Dean's dry retching. He sighed.

“Sam,” he heard his father call. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat as he turned to his parents.

“What the hell happened in that memory?” John scowled, looking straight into Sam's eyes. 

“It's complicated Dad,” Sam replied, sighing. 

"Our whole lives are complicated Sam!" John snapped back.

“Please, just tell us honey,” Mary coaxed gently, putting a hand on John's shoulder. Sam swallowed.

“Dad, after Dean went to Hell, Ruby told me I could do things that could kill Lilith, if I did something,” Sam began. “Drinking her blood.”

"You did what?" John asked, incredulously. Sam nodded slightly. John's face flushed with rage as he grabbed Sam's jacket. 

“Do you have any idea how stupid that is?!” John yelled. 

“Yeah I do, okay?” Sam glared back. “I'm not doing it anymore. Ruby tricked me into thinking it would help,” he scowled.

“You shouldn't have trusted a demon in the first place,” John glared. 

“You think I don't know that?” Sam asked rhetorically. “Go on Dad, yell, throw a punch. It won't change anything,” he said as he saw Dean coming down the steps.

“What's going on?” he asked.

“Dad's asking me about the blood,” Sam said, making Dean sigh.

“Dad, this was years ago, it's in the past. I know Sam screwed up. You can't say you haven't screwed up once in your life,” he said, a touch of anger in his voice.

“This isn't over Sam,” John said in a monotone as his sons left the room with Jo and Ellen following.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Dean, after calming down his dad after Sam revealed his murky past with demon blood, was sitting down by the black lake. He wanted some time to himself, to think.  
Resurrecting all these memories from his past, especially from his stunt in Hell, was starting to ware on him. It was almost as if pulling the memories out were physically draining the life out of him. He was also thinking about all the people he had lost over the years, his Mom, his Dad, his brother multiple times, Ash, Ellen, and Jo… especially Jo.

  
  


The first time he had ever had any infatuation about her was when she went missing on their Dr. H. H. Holmes case. At first his thoughts were ‘Ellen is going to kill me if anything happens to her.’ but the longer she was gone, the more anxious he got for her safety. His mind started turning then about starting a life with Jo. 

  
There wouldn’t be any reason to hide anything from her; they would both be in the same line of work. He had encountered plenty of hunter’s that were married to their partners, so it can work. And she was a real pistol when she wanted to be, but kind as well. He could see a future with her. But when they took her back to the Roadhouse and Ellen told Jo why she didn’t want her hanging around with he and Sam, he thought everything was over.

  
  


It was a long time before he had seen her again, by that time he had forgotten about that one fling in Philly. But after seeing her bound and gagged by Sam who was possessed by Meg brought back all the memories and emotions. Of course she had to feel the same way right? If she hadn’t why did she drag Dean out of the water after Sam had shot him? Not only that but patched him up too.

She went on her own after that, she still hadn’t come to terms with John’s involvement in her father’s death. The last time he saw her was…

  
The time they tried to kill Lucifer. The night had started out playful. Dean had given Jo that ‘last night on Earth’ one-liner, she turned him down flat, but that made him want her even more. Later he, Sam, Jo and Ellen had met Meg and she unleashed the Hellhounds on them. Dean had almost been killed by one when Jo leapt in and saved him, but she had been wounded herself in the process. Dean stopped the memory there, not wanting to relive the last time he had seen her on this side of the dirt. 

  
_But now you have her back,_ a small voice reminded him. He felt like this was his second chance to make things right, to make amends for everything. The gears started turning in his head.   
“Hey stranger.” A voice came from behind him. He opened his eyes to see long blonde hair blocking out the sun and tickling his face.

  
  


“Hey,” he smiled.

“What're you doing here?” she asked.

“Just thinking,” Dean began. “Jo....” Jo looked at him, waiting for him to continue. She handed him a small glass. Dean smiled, chugging the whiskey down.

“What do you wanna say?” she asked. Dean took a deep breath.

  
  


“You deserved better, Jo,” Dean breathed, trying to stop his breathing from hitching with emotion.  
“Dean, my life was good. Really,” Jo smiled a little. “I'm back.”  
“You were a kid,” Dean stated in remorse.   
“Not true,” Jo disagreed.  
“You and Sam. I just – you know, hunters are never kids. I never was. I didn't even stop to think about it,” Dean ranted, his voice breaking a little.  
“It's not your fault. It wasn't on you,” Jo replied.  
“No, but I didn't want to do it alone. Who does? No, the right thing would have been to send your ass back home to your mom,” Dean spat bitterly. He saw Jo smirk.  
“Like to have seen you try,” she smiled. Dean snorted in amusement, lips curling in a small smile.

“Jo... I've been thinking about everything... How much we've all lost, and how easily it could happen again.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Might as well be happy while we can huh?” he smiled.

  
  


“What are you getting at?” Jo asked. Dean lay on the grass, moving his hand back and digging into the back pocket of his jeans. When he retrieved his hand, it was closed in a fist, palm up. His fingers uncurled, revealing a simple diamond ring. Jo's eyes widened. 

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked. Dean nodded.

“I probably should do this properly but being on a teacher's salary..." he trailed off, as Jo smiled, standing over him. She picked up the ring from his hand. 

“So, do you wanna?” Dean asked, a faint red stain beginning to form on his cheeks, under the freckles. Jo smiled. Dean watched as she pushed the ring onto the slim third finger of her left hand. Dean's eyes widened. Jo suddenly laughed and bended down to kiss him. 

“Yes,” she smiled. Dean grinned. She pulled Dean to his feet. As they walked to the castle, Dean's hand snaked around Jo's waist and rested on her pregnant stomach, happiness swelling in his heart.

They arrived in the Great Hall just as dinner began. Jo and Dean walked towards the hunter's table, but Dean stopped.

“I'll be over in a minute. Don't tell them until after dinner 'kay?” he smiled. Jo nodded. Her left hand slipped into her denim jacket pocket. Dean walked up to Professor Dumbledore.

“Albus, would it be possible to speak to you in your office later?” he asked. 

“Of course Mr Winchester,” the old Professor smiled.

“Thanks,” Dean replied with a smile, before sitting beside Jo. Dinner was a quiet affair. Sam kept his eyes down, not meeting his father's, who were still filled with disbelief about Sam's past blood addiction. Dean was past that. He had been disappointed of course, but he helped his brother to get over the demon blood and through the detox process. Just before the students left for their common rooms, Albus stood, calling their attention.

"Before we retire to bed, I hope you all will join me in congratulating our own Professor Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle in their engagement," Albus smiled. Dean gulped, eyes boring into the stone walls as the students applauded. He looked at his fiancée. Dumbledore must've seen the ring. 

“Before your mother kills me,” he said. “I love you.” Jo laughed humourlessly as they saw the grinning faces of the Winchesters and the pissed off face of the other Harvelle.


	21. Five Years

**Chapter 21**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 15 th March 2011**

Dean saw his mother's eyes fill with happy tears. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around her son's neck in a hug. While she hugged Jo, John walked to his son and pulled him in tight.

“Congratulations,” he smiled at them both. Sam was grinning from ear to ear as he punched his big brother on the shoulder lightly. He hugged Jo and stepped back. Ellen looked at the two, trying to calm her emotions. Her little girl was engaged, going to leave her, to live with a man whose father was responsible for her own husband's death. It wasn't Dean's fault, of course. She sighed. She was excited for her daughter and her new... fiancé. Referring to Dean Winchester as a _fiancé_ was a little strange to her.

  
  


“Dean,” she said, seeing the man gulp audibly. “I'm not mad. You make her happy. I know you love her.” Dean looked surprised.

“But,” she continued. “If you _ever_ do anything, you will be dead before you hit the ground!” she threatened. 

“Threat noted,” Dean replied in a surprised voice. He expected Ellen to blow his head off.

“Congrats boy,” he heard Bobby say from the table. He noticed his grandmother giving him a small smile, while his grandfather continued eating as if nothing had happened.

  
  


“If you guys will excuse me, I have an appointment to get to.” Dean excused himself from the table.  
“I wonder where he’s going.” Sam asked out loud. “Do you know Jo?”  
“I’m his fiancé, not his baby sitter.” Jo smirked as she tried to hide the concern in her eyes as she watched Dean leave the Great Hall.  
Dean paused in front of the golden eagle that was the entrance to the Headmasters office. He said the password and started ascending the stairs; Dumbledore was waiting for him in his office.  
“Please have a seat Mr. Winchester.” Dumbledore gestured to the open seat in front of the professor’s desk.  
“Thank you for meeting me Professor Dumbledore.” Dean smiled as he sat in the seat. “I’m sure you are wondering why I asked you to meet me in private.”  
“I’m sure there are many reasons but I have a guess.” Dumbledore inspected Dean with his eyes peering over his half-moon spectacles. “You want to know if you can extract memories and forget them completely?”  
Dean stared at him, dumbfounded. “How do you know?”

“I have often wondered that myself.” Dumbledore walked over to his personal Pensieve. “There are many things from my past that I wish that I could forget. There are certain spells that can alter a person’s memory. Obliviate being the only one I know of guaranteed to work. The spell is used to hide a memory of a particular event.” Dumbledore noticed Dean’s expression. “One which may be of use to you I assume.”   
“I do have… certain things in my past that I would rather forget.” Dean admitted his time in Hell would be one of them.   
“There is also the Pensive that you are using. There’s debate about whether or not you make a copy of the memory, or if you take the memory out of your head all together.” Dumbledore mused, coming back to his desk. “Once you are done viewing a particular memory, such as you and your brother do in class, you can pull the memory back out with your wand.”

“Yea, we’ve been doing that as you instructed.” Dean confirmed. Dumbledore had explained to them how the Pensieve worked. “But is there a way to pull the memories out and keep them out?” Dean was interested in Obliviate, but he didn’t want the memories gone permanently.  
Dumbledore pointed to the shelves of bottles behind the Pensieve. “Those are personal memories that I have collected, some are my own, and others are copies of other people’s memories that have been given to me. I am still not sure how it works. We could spend months going over every little detail about this issue. All I can tell you is to experiment with it, pull out a memory and see if you can remember anything about it.” He laced his fingers together and placed them under his chin. “But before I send you away, I must ask you why.”

  
  


Dean looked down at his hands. He remembered the hooks that were there, the unbearable pain still lingered from his fingertips up to his shoulder where another hook was pulling at his flesh. “I just want the pain to go, the memories, the nightmares, all of it.” He nearly broke down, he felt like the weight of his memories were pressing down on him literally.  
“I understand Mr. Winchester. I do hope you will be successful in your endeavours. And please let me know what you find out.”

“Thanks,” Dean said gratefully, and he left the office.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

He made seven Horcruxes?" said Harry, horror-struck, while several of the portraits on the walls made similar noises of shock and outrage. "But they could be anywhere in the world, hidden, buried or invisible-"

  
"I am glad to see you appreciate the magnitude of the problem," said Dumbledore calmly. "But firstly, no, Harry, not seven Horcruxes: six. The seventh part of his soul, however maimed, resides inside his regenerated body. That seventh piece of soul will be the last that anybody wishing to kill Voldemort must attack--the piece that lives in his body."  
"But the six Horcruxes, then," said Harry, a little desperately, "how are we supposed to find them?"  
"You are forgetting... you have already destroyed one of them. And I have destroyed all but one."

  
"You have?" said Harry eagerly.  
"Yes indeed," said Dumbledore, and he raised his blackened, burned-looking hand. "I believe the last is a locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin and it was bought from Borgin and Burkes, by a witch named Hepzibah Smith. She showed it to Tom Riddle, who was an employee at the time, although Hepzibah was firm that she was not selling the locket. Two days later, Hepzibah was found dead and her house-elf, made a full confession. Using the murder of a Muggle tramp, Riddle turned the locket into a Horcrux and hid it in a seaside cave,” Dumbledore explained.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

She was lost, in utter darkness, the only thing that she could remember was him. He kept her company when she was lonely. He even held her hand when she was scared. He reassured her that everything was going to be alright, that he would protect her.  
Now she was all alone, surrounded by children in long dark robes talking loudly amongst themselves.

  
“Where am I?” She asked out loud to anyone who could hear her. None of the children bothered with her. They barely paid her any mind, milling about in the halls. She started walking about the halls herself. Maybe somewhere, someone would recognize her. She must have known these people from somewhere, why else would she be sent here? She continued roaming the halls. Eventually, she seemed to come to a Hall of some sort. She walked down the large marble staircase, and glanced at four large hourglasses, a red one filled with rubies, a green filled with emeralds, a blue with sapphires and a yellow filled with topaz gems. There were crests at the top of each, a lion, a snake, an eagle and a badger respectively. Where was she?

 

She didn't remember much. She had been minding her own business. Her friend had knocked, and all of a sudden, she knew she was dead. She remembered waking in an old room, a classroom. She thought she had seen a figure in a tan coat disappearing, but she wasn't that crazy. Plus, who said she had been dead? She was sure she had just passed out. She needed to find someone she knew, and she had a feeling that they were here, wherever here was. She turned to the right, and heard a commotion of voices behind a huge mahogany door. She walked towards it, her heart beginning to race. 

She opened the large doors, revealing four long tables. Throngs of teenagers, ranging from eleven to seventeen sat at them, talking loudly and some waving wands. She walked down the aisle, watching as the teens turned to look, quietening down slightly. 

 

Dean laughed at the hunter's table.

“Yeah, Sam lost his shoe. He sounded like a kicked puppy,” he chuckled. His little brother glared at him. 

“Says the guy who screamed at the sight of a cat!” he shot back. Dean narrowed his green eyes.

“I caught the ghost sickness! It wasn't my fault!” he said, affronted.

 

“Isn't he adorable?” Bobby teased. Dean scowled, remembering Bobby saying the same thing when Bobby and Sam were making fun of him beside the Impala. Oh!

“Crap, I forgot, I gotta get something outta the Impala for class. Comin'?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sam shrugged.

 

“I swear I'm gonna kick your ass for that,” Dean scowled as Sam got up.

“Nah,” Sam shrugged. “Cause you love me too much.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah whatever Sasquatch.” They turned together to walk out of the Hall, but stopped, eyes widening.

 

Sam halted, his throat closing at once. His heart seemed to stop in his chest, breath hitching. His parted lips trembled, and he fought for his vocal cords to work. He saw the woman was mirroring him, her soft pastel blue eyes filling with tears. The blonde waves of hair caressed her bare shoulders, the tanned skin visible. She was wearing a long white nightgown that hung past her knees.

 

“Jess,” Sam breathed. Jessica Moore's eyes filled with renewed tears as she broke into a run, her bare feet tapping against the marble floor. Sam's arms widened, curling around her body as she flung herself into his arms. Sam's eyes filled with tears and spilled over as he buried his face into her golden hair. Dean saw the small jerky movements of his shoulders and smiled sadly. He stepped back a little. _Sam needs this,_ he thought.

 

“Sammy,” Jessica sobbed. He pulled back, looking back at her. He crashed his lips to hers, kissing her for the first time in over five years. 

 

“Sam, I don't know what happened,” Jess whispered. “Brady.... he knocked. He was strange. Then his eyes... they turned black!” she cried. “Then it was just fire..” Sam pulled her tight. 

“You're fine,” Sam soothed gently. “I love you Jess.” Jess pulled away, looking to the side.

“Dean?” she questioned.

 

“Jessica,” Dean smiled, pulling his brother's girlfriend in for a hug. Jessica's mind was reeling. She remembered the last time she saw Sam. Meeting Dean and when he told Sam their dad was missing. _Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days._

 

“I was dead wasn't I?” she whispered. Sam nodded sadly. Jessica's breath hitched.

“How long?” she whispered.

“Over five years,” Sam told her sadly. She paled.

“So much has happened,” she whispered in shock. “Did you ever find your father?” she asked. 

 

“See for yourself,” Dean said as they turned and began to walk to the hunter's table.

“Here's our Dad, John Winchester, and our Mom, Mary,” he introduced.

“Wasn't she..” Jessica breathed.

“I was brought back,” Mary told her. “So was John, Dean's fiancée Jo and her mother Ellen, a few of my cousins, my own mother and a few of John's hunting friends.”

“Hunting as in...” Jessica mused.

“We'll explain later.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The hunters had explained everything about their lives, the monsters and demons. She couldn't get her head around it. Her boyfriend hunted demons and ghosts for a living. What was she supposed to make of that? 

She didn't realise that she only knew half of who Sam Winchester was. Sure she was a little pissed that he hadn't told her, but she knew why. She could've gotten hurt, or worse. Which was exactly what happened.

Now here she stood, watching as Sam and Dean explained about Vampires. They explained the basics of Vampire life, and how to kill them.

“Okay, now the memories,” Dean began. “We're gonna show you guys a memory of one of our encounters with Vampires. The second memory we're gonna show you is of a few months ago, when I was turned into a Vampire.” The hunters looked at Dean in shock.

“How are you human now?” a Slytherin girl asked with a sneer.

 

“There's a cure. Only, if you drink from anyone, it won't work,” Dean explained. “Come on. Line up.” The students lined up and entered the Pensieve.

_**John was holding a woman, with a machete to her throat. He was standing beside his truck, glaring at the group of Vampires.  
“I want the Colt. Elkin's gun. Trade,” John said plainly.** _

“ __ **Is that what this is all about? I mean, you can't shoot us all right? We'll kill you,” Luther snarled.**  
“Oh, I don't need it for you. I'm saving it for something else,” John smiled. “Put the colt down, or she goes first.”  
“All right. Just don't hurt her,” Luther said, putting the Colt on the ground in front of him.  
“Back up. Further,” John told the Vampire. He dragged the woman forward and leaned down with her to get the gun.

“ _ **It's a nice move, you almost made it,” Luther smiled, before Kate swung around and knocked John against his truck. He dropped the gun. Luther approached, backhanding John against his open car door. The glass shattered and John fell to the ground, unconscious. An arrow pierced one of the Vampires. Sam and Dean ran from the trees. Dean grabbed a machete and turned to help but Luther had his arm around Sam's throat.**_

Jessica gasped.

“ _ **Don't! I'll break his neck. Put the blade down,” Luther snarled. He tightened his hold on Sam's neck and Dean dropped the machete.**_

“ _ **You people. Why can't you leave us alone. We have as much right to live as you do,” Luther growled.**_

“ _ **I don't think so,” John said from behind Luther. John raised the Colt shot him in the forehead. Sam stumbled away as Luther fell to the ground.  
“Luther!” Kate screamed. Luther slumped to the ground, dead.**_

The memory morphed, and revealed Sam and Dean in a bedroom. 

“ _ **Samuel is gonna kill me when he gets here,” Dean snapped.**_

“ _ **No, Dean, he's not!” Sam snapped back.**_

“ _ **Yes he is, cause I'm gonna ask him to because you won't do it,” Dean replied angrily.**_

“ _ **Okay, just hold on a second,” Sam said, putting his hands up.**_

“ _ **For what, huh? Look at me!” Dean yelled.**_

“ _ **We can figure this out!”**_

“ _ **How?!” Dean exploded. Sam didn't answer. “Why aren't you freaked out?” he asked suspiciously.**_

“ _ **Of course I am!” Sam replied indignantly.**_

“ _ **Really? Cause I can hear your heartbeat, and it's pretty damned steady,” Dean dead panned.**_

“ _ **That's cause I'm...I'm trying to remain calm. Dean, look, Samuel will know what to do,” Sam urged**_

“ _ **C'mon, man, I'm a monster, okay? This is not a problem that you spit-ball. We gotta deal with this before I hurt somebody!” Dean barked. Dean held his head again and groaned.**_

The memory morphed again, revealing Dean facing away from a scared Lisa. 

_**His fangs extended over his normal teeth.** _

“ _ **Dean?” Lisa asked.**_

“ _ **I gotta go,” Dean choked out.**_

The classroom formed around them as the students exited the Pensieve.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sam slipped his hands around Jessica's shoulders as she sat beside him.

“Demon hunter, huh?” she said, looking up at her boyfriend. Sam smiled a little and let out a small huff of amusement.

“Yeah, as we told you, Dad raised us in it,” he told her. He watched as her eyes looked down into her lap.

“You know you could have told me,” she said softly.

“I couldn't Jess,” Sam replied with a sigh. “I couldn't put you in that danger.” 

"And who says I can't protect myself?" Jess replied indignantly.

“What does that mean?” Sam looked at her with a smirk.

“Nothing.” She turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. “So fighting monsters huh?”  
“Yea, some part time job.” Sam sighed, she still hadn’t turned back around, it was starting to bother him.   
“I thought you said you didn’t have much to do with your Dad or brother anymore?” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I mean you never talked about them..”

 

“Well, I…” He was trying to find a way to explain it. “It’s hard to explain. I kinda have a love/hate thing goin’ on with my dad. And Dean, well, you met him.”   
Jessica smiled. “Yea, your brother sure is a character.”  
They sat in silence for a while, contemplating everything that was said between them. A few students walked by and greeted Sam with smiles and waves.  
“So you are a hunter, and you hunted witches yet you are teaching at a school for witches and wizards?” Jessica raised her eyebrows and giggled.  
“Uh, yeah…” Sam laughed with her, it did sound funny when it was put that way. “It’s ah… complicated.”  
They walked far enough from the school to be able to Apparate from the school to the nearest clothing store to get Jessica some new clothes, walking around in a white dress and bare feet was starting to scare the students. She had picked out some jeans, hiking boots, and an old rock band t-shirt.

  
  


They were sitting in the Leaky Cauldron after the shopping trip. Jessica looked like she was having an internal dilemma. She looked like she wanted to say something to him, but then changed her mind and started talking about something else.   
“Jess are you sure everything is ok?” Sam finally broke down and asked her.  
She paused for a few seconds, staring off into space. “I haven’t been completely honest with you Sam.” She said without looking at him.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked worriedly.   
Instead of answering him, she leaned over and pulled a long wooden stick out of her boot and placed it on the table.

  
  


“I’m a witch.” She said simply. Sam's eyes widened almost comically.   
“You-” he said, his mouth opened wide. Jessica picked up the almost golden coloured wand and Sam watched as sparks flew from its tip.  
“Why didn't you tell me?” Sam said finally, taking her hand.  
“I didn’t know how you would react.” Jessica told him. “And if I knew you were a hunter that would make things more difficult.”  
“So how did you get started?” Sam was still trying to piece this all together in his mind.

  
  


“My ‘powers’ didn’t come in till I was 11. Then I found out that my mom was a witch, my dad didn’t know either. I went to Salem Witch's Institute; it’s kind of like Hogwarts but it’s an all girl’s school. It’s the same school my mom went to. I went there for 7 years, after I finished my seventh year they gave me the option of staying on and selecting a major, like hexes, transmutation, or potions, or leave to go live my own life. I chose to go to Stanford. I mean being a witch is great, but I just wanted to be normal, like you.” She smiled a little. “My mom wasn’t very happy with it but she agreed. She always told me to watch out for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“How did you know about him?”  
“I always thought he was a story that kids told each other to scare each other, but now…. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a big threat, even in the States. Even though many believed he was gone for good, a few of us thought he would come back.”  
Sam sat there in total shock, his girlfriend was a witch!

  
  


“The night I was killed I was going to tell you that I was a witch. My mom had called me and told me that there was a surge in Death Eater activity in England. I was going to go back to Salem to help teach at the school while a few of the teachers went to investigate.”  
“Something as huge as Voldemort” Jessica flinched a little. “And we didn’t know about it?” Sam was wondering why he and Dean hadn’t heard of him before now.  
“Well it’s been said that Muggles aren’t very bright.” She nudged him playfully.

“Very funny,” Sam scowled playfully and he kissed her on the lips. “I love you Jess.”

  
  



	22. Behind These Green Eyes

**Chapter 22**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 19 th April 2011**

Dean smiled to himself. Today was the day. He was finally getting married to Jo. He had never pictured himself as a married man, but here he was. He pulled the knot of the up to his white collar and smirked to himself. 

“Dean,” he heard and turned rapidly, to see Castiel standing in the room. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean replied. He had not seen the Angel since his argument in the Hospital Wing. A wave of guilt filled him.

“You’re getting married.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied. He shrugged the suit jacket on. It was plain black, with a small white flower pinned to it. 

“Cas,” Dean began, turning around.

“Yes Dean?” Castiel replied, head tilting to the side slightly, blue eyes curious.  
“I’m sorry.”

“I am sorry too Dean,” Castiel replied. “I should have been there to help you.” Dean nodded. 

“I was still in shock I guess,” Dean replied with a shrug. 

“I know,” the Angel said. “Dean, I will protect you.” Dean let out a huff of amusement. There was a small knock on the door before it opened.

“Dean, its almost time for you to go down,” Sam said as he entered. He was Dean’s best man. he couldn’t think of anyone better. Sam was also wearing a black suit, but his tie was a soft navy, striped with pale blue. 

  
  


“Is Jo ready?” Dean replied.

“Yeah she is. Ellen is just helping her to finish her hair,” Sam replied. 

“Is Jess with her?” Dean asked. His younger brother nodded in response. Ever since Jessica’s return, Sam had been happier than Dean had ever seen him. Until her return, he hadn’t realised how much Sam had actually loved Jessica. He smiled at the thought. Sam was happy and he had his girlfriend back. 

“You okay?” Sam asked. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Fine bitch,” he smiled, punching Sam’s shoulder. Castiel looked on with an air of confusion as he studied the brothers’ behaviour.

“Dean,why would you call Sam a female dog?” he asked. Sam laughed. 

“It’s just an expression Cas,” Dean replied with a sigh.

“The door opened, and John edged in.

“Hey Dad,” Dean smiled. 

  
  


“Hey boys,” John replied. He was wearing a dark grey suit, with a white flower in the suit jacket pocket. Jo had asked John if he would walk her down the aisle. It had shocked John but he had agreed eagerly. It seemed strange that Jo would ask him, but it dawned on John that her asking him was a hint of forgiveness on her part. 

Sam looked at his father. His eyes held a need, and he looked at Dean with an air of purpose. 

  
“C’mon Cas,” Sam said, leading the Angel out of the room. John huffed out a breath.

“Here’s the day,” he said. Dean nodded. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied.

  
  


“You know I never expected to see this?” John said sadly. Dean looked up, giving his father a questioning look. 

“I never expected to see either of you boys getting married. Years ago, when I heard that Sam was going to propose to Jessica, I was delighted,” John said. “Compared with what you may think, I wanted Sam to have a normal life. I was just terrified of leaving him alone unprotected.. I couldn’t do that. That was why I started that huge argument.” John rubbed his hands over his face with a heavy sigh. 

  
  


"Just with Sam? You didn't have any plans for me?" Dean asked.

“Of course I did son,” John replied, his hazel eyes locking with his son’s green irises. John sighed again.

“Dean... all throughout your childhood, and even before I died, I was terrified for you two boys. I... I was half expecting a call from some hospital at one point, telling me that you or Sam were dead,” he admitted, his eyes now cast down into his lap. tears beginning to shine in them

  
  


"I never realized how much you cared," Dean muttered. John inhaled.

  
  


“You boys are more important to me than anyone,” John replied. “Even knowing that I could lose you someday, with the way we live, I couldn’t bear that. I just couldn’t. You’re my boys. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you. When the semi hit the Impala, and you slipped into a coma.. I had never been more scared. Seeing you like that and the doctors, they didn’t help at all. On the third day they told me you were going to die, and they... they left a DNR order in your room. I sent Sam to get the stuff for the ritual. After Sam and I had that argument, Bobby called. He knew what I was up to and I told him I couldn’t lose you.”

  
  


The word _DNR_ swam around in Dean’s head. _Do Not Resuscitate_ , that’s what it stood for. So the doctors had given up on him, huh? He didn’t really care. He knew Sammy and Dad would never give up on him, and that was all that mattered to him.

  
  


John was lost in his memories of those few terrible days. The conversation with Bobby leaked through.

_"Why would you go and do a stupid thing like that ya idgit?" Bobby had snapped._

_"I don't know how much longer I'm going to be here Bobby. Sam needs someone to be here for him.  Someone like his brother," he had replied, looking into the hospital room, listening to the machines tracking Dean’s heart rate and the noise of the ventilator breathing for him._

“ _I can’t let my son die Bobby. I’ve run my course with hunting. It’s time the boys took over. I know they can finish this. Dean... God Bobby... he’s in rough shape. He’s not even breathing on his own,” he whispered as his head lowered, leaning against the door frame._

  
  


John shook out of the memory as Sam entered the room again.

“Come on Dad, Dean. Time to go down,” he said. Dean’s heart rose as he smiled at John before leaving the room. They walked down the endless staircases and left the castle. The sun was shining over the grounds, illuminating the small arch that had been set up in front of around fifty chairs. Several students were allowed to attend the wedding, Harry, Luna, Hermione, Ginny and Ron among them. Order of the Phoenix members had also come, Ron’s parents, Sirius, Remus, Kingsley and Tonks, the woman who had brought them to the train station. The hunters were there, Mary, Bobby, Caleb, Daniel, Samuel, Deanna, Ellen, Ash, Jim, Mark, Christian and Johnny. Mary sat, smiling as she saw Dean, a free seat to her right, to which Jessica was on the other side of with another empty seat to her right, no doubt for Sam. Castiel sat on the other side of the empty seat. Dean smiled as he saw him.

“I better go get Jo,” John smiled. John walked back inside the castle.

  
  


Sam followed Dean up to the small arch, mouth in a grin. 

“You ready Dean?” he asked. Dean smirked.

“I was born ready. By the way, you may wanna move another few rooms away tonight,” he said waggling his eyebrows.

“Dude...” Sam groaned. “Gross.”

“Jo doesn’t think so..” Dean said cockily. “God Sam... she does this thing with-” 

“Dean!” Sam interrupted loudly. “TMI bro.” His older brother just grinned in response. The music began and they both turned.

  
  


Jo was walking down the aisle, her arm linked with John’s. Dean’s eyes widened as he saw her. She was freakin’ hot looking. Okay, so maybe not the best thing for a groom to say about his bride on his wedding day as she walks down the aisle, but this is Dean Winchester. Jo was wearing a beautiful white dress that trailed along the ground. It hugged her slim waist, with simple thick straps and a heart shaped neckline. The dress was adorned with flowered embroidery in the entire top half, and it glided down into small bunches after the waistline. 

  
  


Jo approached Dean and Sam with John. John took her hand and placed it in Dean’s. His father then clapped a hand on his shoulder and Dean was surprised to see tears in the elder hunter’s eyes. John retreated to his seat between his wife and Jessica. Dean and Jo both turned, facing the small tufty wizard.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls, Dean Winchester and Joanna Harvelle." Dean looked slightly to his right and saw Sam smiling at him.

  
  


“Dean, do you take Jo  to be your wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful unto her as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Dean said simply, smiling at his soon to be wife.

“Jo, do you take Dean  to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?”

"I do," Jo smiled.

“May I have the rings?” the wizard asked. Sam smiled and stood in front of his brother. He handed Dean Jo’s ring and he slipped it onto her ring finger alongside her engagement ring. Jo took the other and slipped it onto Dean’s ring finger.

"I declare you bonded for life," the wizard announced smiling. “You may kiss the bride.”

Dean smiled at his new wife, pulling her close and their lips met. Jo felt her eyes slip shut as she kissed Dean. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she pulled back, smiling. As they kissed, the tufty-haired wizard waved his hand high over their heads and a shower of silver stars fell on them, spiralling around their now entwined figures. The golden balloons adorning the scene burst and birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them. Applause rained through the air as Dean and Jo Winchester turned to face their friends and family.

  
  


Mary, John, Sam and Ellen were the first up to the arch. Mary pulled Jo into a hug, while Ellen pulled Dean into a similar embrace. John put his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Congratulations son,” he said and put his arms around his eldest son, hugging him close. He let him go to see Mary kissing Jo on the cheek while hugging her. Dean smiled.

  
  


“Moose, you finally getting tied down?” a cool British tone clipped from behind the crowd. It dispersed at once to reveal the King of Hell himself.

  
  


“Dean,” Crowley said, eyes narrowing as he saw the elder Winchester brother. “You’re alive.”

“Takes more than a stabbing to kill me Crowley,” Dean growled, unconsciously moving in front of Jo.

“Apparently, you Winchesters are like cockroaches,” the demon scowled. “Castiel.” Angel faced Demon and both scowled at each other. The Angel blade slid out of Castiel’s sleeve and into his hand. 

“Castiel,” Crowley drawled again. “You brought these hunters back, I’m guessing?” 

“I cannot let you continue Crowley,” Castiel glared, blue eyes boring into the furious expression that the King of Hell had. 

  
  


“So now you’re double crossing me?” Crowley snarled. He snapped his fingers, and several demons appeared. One with dirty blonde hair, pouting lips and brown eyes stepped forward

  
  


“Hey boys, Clarence,” Meg smirked.

“Meg,” Sam and Dean said in unison. John grabbed his gun at once.

“Howdy John,” Meg smiled. “Long time no see.”

“So, I got to ask. Um... What's up with the hair?” Dean smirked, trying to joke.

“Aww. Thanks for noticing, Dean. But this wasn't my idea. It was Crowley's,” she replied. _And it's just another reason I want to stab him in the face,_ she continued in her mind. She looked behind the Winchester siblings to see the hunters.

“I see the hunters are back. No hard feelings?” she said, looking to Jo and Ellen, who glared back at her.

“You set Hellhounds on innocent people,” Sam snarled.

“Hi, I’m Meg. I’m a demon,” Meg said sarcastically. “Anyway, You remember everything?” she asked, giving a fond look to Castiel.

”If you're referring to the pizza man... Yes, I remember the pizza man. And it's a good memory,” Castiel replied, causing Sam and Dean to gag at the reminder.

Meg looked around to see a blonde woman behind Sam. She smiled.

“So this is Jessica,” she stated. Sam glared, pulling Jess closer.

“Remember, I spent time in that walking corpse of yours. I know your sad, little thoughts and feelings,” Meg simpered.

“That's creepy,” Sam scowled. Meg strode towards them and turned to face Crowley.

  
  


“Look, you pig. Your damn war is getting ridiculous,” Meg said to the King of Hell. “Things have changed. I’m kinda good, which sucks. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a dick.” Crowley snarled and suddenly he lunged. He shoved his blade through Meg’s stomach and her body flashed before Crowley let her body go, and it dropped to the ground, dead. 

  
  


“That’s that out of the way,” Crowley said casually, wiping the blade on his suit jacket. “Castiel, you won’t get away with betraying me. We had our plan.” He snapped his fingers again.

“Sayonara, Moose, Squirrel,” Crowley smirked. The demons and Crowley were gone. Dean sighed in relief. 

“Sam!” a scream ripped through the air. All heads turned rapidly to see that Sam Winchester had collapsed. His eyes were closed, eyelashes casting a shadow on his cheeks. Dean dropped to his little brother’s side. He saw as Castiel did the same. The Angel put his hand on Sam’s forehead. Dean pressed his fingers to Sam’s pulse, feeling it thrum under his fingers. He sighed in relief/

“The wall is gone,”the Angel stated and blue met horrified green as Dean stared in shock.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


Dean sat by Sam’s bed, head in his hands. The wall was gone. His wedding day had been the happiest day in his life at first, but it had soon turned to tragedy. Sam could die. He might not ever wake up. He shivered at the thought. No, Sam would be fine, because he was _always_ fine.

Who was he kidding? Sam _could_ die here. They’d been down roads like this before, with Yellow eyes, Lilith, friggin’ _Lucifer._ They both knew where this ended, one of them dying... or worse. Dean felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his wife looking at him with concern as she sat beside him. Jessica sat at Sam’s other side and took his hand.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


Sam was in the Demonology classroom, the furniture covered with white sheets. There were candles almost everywhere, but the room was still almost dark somehow..A glimpse of moonlight shone through the window. He entered the room with his gun. He approached Bobby’s desk. A figure was sitting there, enveloped by darkness. 

“Hey. Hey!” Sam said, holding the gun in front of him.

“Oh. Hi, Sam,” his own voice, yet weak, spoke back.

“So, which one are you?” Sam asked.

“Don't you know?” the other Sam asked. He stood and his face was illuminated by the moonlight. It was covered in bruises. “ I'm the one that remembers Hell.”

“I wish you hadn't come, Sam,” the other Sam continued.

“I had to. I'm here, right? Out there in the real world, I'm in our room, aren't I?” Sam guessed.

“How do you know?” the other Sam questioned.

“This whole time, I've smelt nothing but Old Spice and whiskey. Figured if I could get back here, back to my body, I could... I don't know, I could snap out of it somehow,” Sam replied.

“But first you have to go through me,” the other Sam said softly. 

“Why?” Sam questioned.

“Humpty Dumpty has to put himself back together again, before he can wake up. And I'm the last piece,” the other Sam said looking down.

“Which means,” Sam began, lowering the gun as he stepped closer. “I have to know what you know. What happened in the cage?”

“Trust me, you don't wanna know it,” the other Sam insisted.

“You're right. But I still have to,” Sam pressed. The other Sam stepped closer.

“Sam, you can't imagine. Stay here, go back, find that bartender, but don't do this. I know you. You're not strong enough.”

Sam exhaled. “We'll just have to see.”

“Why is this so important to you?” the other Sam scoffed.

“You know me. You know why. I'm not leaving my brother and Jess alone out there,” Sam said as he saw the other Sam pulled out a knife. He raised his gun in defence.

“I'm not gonna fight you,” the other Sam said in a monotone. He held out the knife, handle first. “But this is your last chance.” Sam sighed, lowering his gun and taking the knife from him.

“Good luck. You're gonna need it,” the other Sam said. Sam stabbed his other self. The other Sam groaned, falling to the ground, dead. A bright light came from his body and Sam absorbed it. He caught a glimpse of his bedroom, Dean sitting by his side as his own body began to convulse. Sam watched as Dean restrained his body and as it fell limp, everything went black.


	23. Family Don't End With Blood

**Chapter 23**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 21 st April 2011**

Not two days had passed since Dean and Jo's wedding, and Dean had barely left Sam's side. Monday morning brought with it a bright sun and clear skies. Sam had gone through two episodes of convulsions by now, and Dean was increasing in worry. What was happening to his little brother? Why wouldn't he wake up? Dean sighed, picking up the razor. He gave an amused sound as he glided the razor over his brother's jaw. Sam was already getting stubble, and he'd be kinda pissed if he woke with the starting of a beard. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before. He'd taught Sam to shave when he was fifteen and Dean was nineteen. He smirked a little, remembering Sam at that age, all pissy with teen angst. He pulled back the razor from his brother's face, wiping the shaving cream away. Not even a scratch. 

  
  


A knock on the door met his ears. Turning his head, he saw his mother at the door.

“How is he?” she asked in a concerned tone.

“No change,” Dean sighed.

“Dean, can I talk to you?” she asked. Dean nodded. “Dean.. I've been thinking a lot since I came back. I've missed so much. Sammy's first words, his first steps, your first day of school, graduations, proms, all of it.”

"Uhh well we didn't exactly... Go to prom..." Dean said softly, smiling a little at his mother. Mary's lips twitched.

“Be that as it may, I still missed everything in your lives. Dean.. when Sam wakes up, do you think you and your brother could show me some memories?” Mary asked.

  
  


“Sure mom,” Dean replied and watched as his mother smiled and left the room, with a fond look to him and a worried look to Sam's form. Just as the door closed, his heart skipped a beat as he felt movement against his arm. His eyes locked on his brother's face. The eyelids twitched, and squeezed shut before flying open with a gasp coming from his mouth.

“Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. “Are you okay?” The words flew from his mouth in a rapid succession. 

“Dean.. the wall broke, how do you think I feel?” Sam groaned weakly. “I feel like crap.” Suddenly, the vision of him screaming in hell reared his ugly head. Great.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Sam, mom wants us to show her some childhood memories,” Dean told his brother as they walked down the hall.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“She knows she missed a lot, that's why,” Dean replied. “I think she deserves to know.”

“You're right,” Sam sighed. “Do you think we should tell her?” 

“About what?” Dean asked.

“After Jess,” Sam whispered in response, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “I don't want mom to be disappointed in me Dean, or dad.” Dean looked at his little brother, at the tears threatening to overflow. He sighed, pulling him in for a hug. 

“Sam, they wouldn't be disappointed. This life.... it sucks ass,” Dean said, breaking his strict ' _no chick-flick moments'_ rule. “They deserve to know. But they would _not_ be disappointed in you.”

Sam nodded, movements sullen as they entered the Great Hall. They walked down,watching as the hunters smiled when they saw Sam. 

“Sam!” Jessica called. Sam grinned as Jess ran forward and wrapped her arms around him. Dean saw him smile as he pressed his lips to hers. Wolf whistles were heard among the students, and cheering by some. Sam, Jessica and Dean walked up to the hunter's table and sat in their usual spaces. A part of Dean's mind noticed Mary was not there yet.

“How are you son?” John asked. Sam's face was slightly paler than usual, eyes tired.

“M'fine,” Sam replied, pulling a cup of coffee into his cold hands. He relished in the warmth of the mug.

“Dad, you may wanna stay away from mom for a while," Dean said casually as he shoved a piece of egg into his mouth. Sam sighed beside him. Pig....   
"Why?" John asked in a confused voice, an eyebrow raising.  
"Cause she's gonna be pissed at you when we show her these memories," Dean joked.

“What are you talking about Dean,” John asked, looking at his son with more confusion than before.

“Mom came to us and she asked if we could show her some childhood memories,” Dean explained. John nodded, face paling a little. 

“We'll stop her from doing any real damage,” Sam said light-heartedly. The Winchester brothers looked as John's mouth twitched.

“Can I come along?” Jo asked, grinning at the thought of the two as children. Her husband and brother in law shrugged. 

“Sure babe,” Dean grinned.

  
  


“C'mon, we better go. I'd say your mom's excited,” John said as he, Sam, Dean, Jo and Jessica got up. The walk to the classroom was fraught with an uncomfortable aura. They walked into the classroom and went towards the Pensieve. They put their wands to their foreheads and pulled the memories out one by one. They both turned as Mary walked into the room.

  
  


“Hey mom,” Sam smiled. 

“Hey Sam,” Mary replied with a grin. 

“You ready?” Dean asked of his mother. Mary nodded excitedly. The group of six moved to the Pensieve, dropping into the shining blue liquid. 

  
  


_**John was walking around a motel room. He had a six month old Sam over his shoulder, rubbing the sobbing infant's back, trying to calm him down.** _

“ _ **Shhh Sammy,” John said softly, bouncing him slightly in his arms.**_

Mary looked at the scene in concern, maternal instincts rising. 

“ _ **Daddy?” a small voice sounded from the chair.**_

“ _ **Yeah Deano?” John asked, smiling a little, although it was obvious it was fake.**_

“ _ **Daddy, where's mommy?” the almost five year old said in a tiny voice, expressive green eyes lowered. John froze, left hand supporting his youngest, and his right on the baby's back. He pulled his right hand away, and rubbed it over his now moist eyes.**_

“ _ **Mommy, she's gone to Heaven Deano,” John said finally. Dean's eyes filled with tears as he looked up at his father.**_

“ _ **I want mommy back,” he sniffled. “Is she an Angel?” he asked. John didn't answer.**_

  
  


The memory dissolved, revealing a bright September day. 

_**John had a one and a half year old Sam by the hand. The little boy looked up at his older brother as the sandy haired child scowled.** _

“ _ **Daddy, I don't wanna go to school,” he pouted.**_

“ _ **You have to son,” John said gently.**_

Mary noticed the difference. In the first memory, John was like the father she knew, but John's voice had changed slightly. Only one year as a hunter had changed John, even slightly.

“ _ **Who'll look after Sammy?” Dean whimpered.**_

“ _ **Sammy will be fine,” John soothed, gently nudging Dean closer to the group of playing five year olds that would be in his class.**_

  
  


The memory faded into blackness before reforming to show a nine year old Dean, with his little brother playing with green army men on the disgusting puke green carpet.

_**Dean got up and looked at Sammy.** _

“ _ **Want dinner?” he asked. The mop of brown hair looked up to reveal innocent brown eyes.**_

“ _ **Pwease Dean,” Sam said. Dean nodded and opened the cabinet, frowning. There was only one can of Spaghetti-O’s left. He opened the can and poured it into a saucepan.**_

“ _ **Don't you want any Dean?” Sammy asked.**_

“ _ **Nah, I'm fine,” Dean replied.**_

  
  


The memory again faded as Mary gave a stern look to her husband.  
“You didn't leave them with enough money?” she glared. “You shouldn't have left them alone in the first place!” John looked down.

The memory refocused, showing a fifteen year old Sam Winchester.

_**He was scowling, patches of his long hair in his hands.** _

“ _ **Dean! You put Nair in the shampoo?!” he yelled. Nineteen year old Dean Winchester was laughing his head off.**_

“ _ **Dude, your face!” he choked out, holding his ribs. “Did you take the bottle out with you?” he asked.**_

“ _ **Uh...” Sam trailed off. Dean's face paled.**_

“ _ **Dad's in the shower!” he exclaimed. Sam just about peed himself laughing.**_

“ _ **Dean Winchester!” a roar sounded from the bathroom. Dean gulped as John came out, hair falling from his scalp.**_

  
  


Both Dean and Sam were laughing their heads off. Mary stifled a giggle behind her hand at the image. The memory blurred and refocused.

_**A room was revealed. Sam was sitting on one bed, his hair falling in his eyes.** _

Dean paled. Sadness coursed though him. Sam had been devastated after his girlfriend's death. He looked over to see that his younger brother's face had drained of all colour and his eyes held a deep fear.

_**Sam had a gun in his hands, the barrel moving into his open mouth.** _

Mary and Jessica gasped. John, Dean and Jo's faces were white. 

_**The door opened and Dean entered.** _

“ _ **Sammy, I got ya-” he began before cutting off. The food fell from his hands as he lunged at his little brother.  
“Sam!” Dean yelled. He wrenched the gun from Sam's hands and threw it to the ground. **_

“ _ **What the hell were you thinking?!” Dean yelled. Sam looked up, lost and suddenly, the tears poured uncontrollably.**_

“ _ **Sammy...” Dean trailed off. He didn't know what to say. What could you say to a little brother so far gone? Instead, he pulled Sam into a hug, allowing him to let his emotions go.**_

“ _ **Let it go, let it go brother,” Dean said, unusually soothing.**_

The memory faded and they found themselves in the classroom.

  
  


Sam held his breath. _Here it comes._ He could see his mother and girlfriend's tears falling. To his surprise, it was his mother who spoke.

“Sam,” Mary began.

"Well it's not like he was the first one, and he wont be the last," Dean muttered.

“What are yo talking about Dean?!” John exclaimed.

“Oh, maybe that I tried to, lets say, 'get acquainted' with my hunting knife few months after Sam went to hell!” Dean snapped.

“It's only natural that you would consider your own mortality sometime in this life,” Mary said, tearful again. 

_Yeah, its so natural to want to freaking kill yourself constantly_ , Dean thought. There was a long silence, before Dean sighed and left the room.

  
  


Arriving in the Entrance Hall, they stopped to see a man standing by the large marble staircase.   
“Sirius,” John stated. The black haired man looked up.

“Hey John,” he smiled. “Mary isn't it?” he asked. Mary smiled and nodded.

“How are you?” she asked.

  
  


“Can't complain. Easter's coming up, and I was wondering if you wanted to spend it in my house,” Sirius said. “I did some remodelling, and it doesn't look like a Dark Wizard place of worship anymore.”

“Sure,” Sam smiled.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The arrival at number 12 Grimmauld Place was uneventful. Sam, Dean, Jessica, Jo, Mary and John we given their rooms with their partners. As he sat in his and Jo's room, Dean felt his mind wandering back to his wedding day. Castiel had betrayed them. He couldn't believe it. 

“Dinner!” he heard Mrs. Weasley call. During the holidays, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione had come over to spend Easter there. Dean walked down the two sets of stairs to find everyone at the table.

  
  


“Hey,” Dean grinned as he sat beside Jo, kissing her cheek. “Sam, really? Salad. You're gonna turn into a rabbit.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“I thought you'd end up dying of clogged arteries instead of the Hellhounds,” Sam shot back. 

“Clogged arteries!” Dean grinned, punching the air with his fist, causing several others to laugh.” It would have been an easier death though, than the Hellhounds.” 

“I guess,” Sam agreed.

“How did you get back?” Lupin asked.

“Angel dragged me out of Hell. I woke up in my own coffin,” Dean answered.

“Oh my,” Mrs Weasley breathed. 

“No big deal,” Dean shrugged. There was a silence as they continued eating. 

  
  


After a while, Mrs Weasley announced it was time for bed. Dean chuckled as he heard his students grumbling as they went up to their bedroom. Jo sat on the bed and Dean approached.

“You okay babe?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think I have butterflies or something,” Jo said in a confused voice. She gasped suddenly, hand flying to her stomach.

  
  


“You okay? Jo?” Dean said rapidly, worry stilling his heart before it kicked in double time. 

“I think your son or daughter just kicked,” Jo whispered in shock. She breathed out a huff, and another before a thousand watt smile lit up her face and tears filled her eyes. Dean grinned, his callused hand resting on her stomach. Dean felt a tiny jolt against his fingers and he laughed aloud. 

“Oh my God...” he breathed. Leaning forward, he caught Jo's lips in a kiss.

“So, thought of names yet?” he teased.

“Not sure to be honest,” Jo said sheepishly.

“We'll figure something out,” Dean smiled.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Two weeks passed and Dean and Sam had the best Easter in their whole lives. They revelled in the good life, to feel normal for once. Mary was overjoyed at the news of the baby kicking and became extremely excited, along with Sam. Dean knew his brother was really getting excited about his niece or nephew. Getting back was easy enough and done without hassle. Sam and Dean had talked. They knew they had to do something about Cas. So here they were, standing in one of the rooms in the dungeon, Holy Oil ready. 

“Cas, we need you down here,” Sam called. “It's Dean.” Castiel appeared suddenly in a ruffle of wings.

“Sam I-” Castiel began but cut off as he saw Dean drop the match and the Holy Fire erupted in a ring around him.

“What are you doing?” Cas demanded.

“We gotta talk,” Dean began.

“ About what? Let me go!” Cas exclaimed, and got no answer.

“How long you been watching us?” Sam asked. “And how exactly did Crowley trick you with the wrong bones?” 

“It's hard to understand. It's hard to explain. Just let me go. Let me out and I can-” Cas began but Dean interrupted.

“You got to look at me, man. You got to level with me and tell me what's going on. Look me in the eye and tell me you're not working with Crowley,” he said in an almost desperate tone. Cas looked at Dean, but looked away quickly.

“You son of a bitch,” Dean spat.

“Let me explain,” Castiel said with his hands up, desperate for his friend to listen.

“You're in it with him? You and Crowley have been going after Purgatory together? You have, huh? This whole time, and you're helping this Voldemort guy?” Dean demanded.

“I did it to protect you. I did it to protect all of you,” Castiel pressed.

“Protect us how? By opening a hole into monster-land!?” Sam exclaimed.

“I can stop Raphael. Please, you have to trust me,” Cas begged.

“Trust you?! How in the hell are we supposed to trust you now?” Sam said exasperatedly.

“I'm still me. I'm still your friend. Sam...I'm the one who raised you from Perdition,” Cas said as he looked into the younger hunter's eyes, begging him to see sense. 

“Well, no offence...But you did a pretty piss-poor job of it. Wait. Did you bring me back soulless...On purpose?” Sam said with an air of disgust.

“How could you think that?” Castiel replied in a shocked tone.

“Well, I'm thinking a lot of things right now, Cas,” Sam snapped.

“Listen. Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard. I had no choice,” Castiel explained, eyes wide and unusually expressive for an Angel.

“No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one,” Dean spoke up.

“You don't understand. It's complicated,” Castiel pressed. Dean approached Cas.

“No, actually, it's not, and you know that. Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it... Like we always have. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!” he exclaimed.

“It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?” Castiel said quietly, looking down.

“I was there. Where were you?” Dean snapped. “You should have come to us for help, Cas...”

“Maybe. It's too late now. I can't turn back now. I can't,” Castiel admitted with an air of defeat.

“It's not too late. Damn it, Cas! We can fix this!” Dean exclaimed.


	24. Nine Crimes

**Chapter 24**

**Crowley's Hideout, Bootbock, Kansas, U.S.A. 30 thApril 2011**

“Raphael,” Castiel stated coldly to the female vessel that contained the Archangel. **“** Consorting with demons. I thought that was beneath you.”

“Heard _you_ were doing it. Sounded like fun,” Raphael sneered.

“You know, Castiel,” Crowley drawled. “You've said all sorts of shameful, appalling, scatological things about Raphael. I-I've found him, her, to be really quite reasonable,” he smiled. Castiel rounded on him.

  
  


“You fool. Raphael will deceive and destroy you at the speed of thought,” Castiel snapped.

“Right, right, 'cause you're such a straight shooter. She, he, has offered me protection against all comers,” the demon smiled.

“In exchange for what?” Castiel asked. 

“The Purgatory blood,” Crowley answered. Raphael clicked her tongue. 

“Castiel, you really think I would let you open that door? Take in _that_ much power? If anyone is going to be the new God, it's me,” she said, stepping forward.

“He's gonna bring the Apocalypse, and worse,” Castiel said, feeling suddenly powerless. He had to do something.

  
  


“Hey, this is your doing, mate. I'm merely grabbing the best offer on the table. Now, you have two options. Flee, or die,” Crowley mocked. Castiel picked up the jar of blood and threw it to Crowley before disappearing in a rustle of wings. Crowley faced the wall, sigil on the wall almost glowing red. 

“ _Lanua magna Purgatorii, clausa est ob nos, lumine eius ab oculis nostris retento. Sed nunc stamus ad limen huius ianuae magnae et demisse, fideliter, perhonorifice, paramus aperire eam. Creaturae terrificae, quarum ungulae et dentes, nunquam tetigerunt carnem humanam.”_

 _The door opened and Dean and Sam, along with Bobby and John burst in. Crowley turned._ Dean threw an Angel Sword at Raphael. Raphael caught is as he and Crowley turned to look at the hunters. Telekinetically, Crowley forced the hunters to fall down the stairs. Dean landed on a table before he was thrown to the ground.

“Bit busy, gentlemen. Be with you in a moment,” Crowley simpered.

“ _Aperit fauces eius ad mundum nostrum, nunc, ianua magna aperta tandem!”_ he finished the spell. Nothing happened. Crowley frowned.

  
  


“Maybe I said it wrong,” he mused. Castiel appeared behind Crowley. There was an empty jar of blood in his hands.

“You said it perfectly. All you needed was this,” he sad, putting the jar down. 

“I see,” Crowley drawled. He walked to the wall and touched the blood. “And we've been working with... dog blood. Naturally,” he said, tasting it. “I'm guessing you brought these chuckle-heads here too?” he asked. Castiel nodded.

“Enough of these games, Castiel. Give us the blood,” Raphael ordered.

“You- Game's over,” he said, looking at Raphael. He turned to Cas. “His jar's empty. So, Castiel, how'd your ritual go? Better than ours, I'll bet?” he asked. Castiel closed his eyes and a bright light radiated from him. It filled the room and everyone shielded their eyes. The light faded and Castiel smiled.

  
  


“You can't imagine what it's like. They're all inside me. Millions upon millions of souls,” he said, eyes serious and somewhat cold.

“Sounds sexy. Exit stage Crowley,” Crowley said before disappearing. Raphael looked frightened.

“Now, what's the matter, Raphael? Somebody clip your wings?” Castiel mocked. Raphael's eyes widened.

“Castiel, please. You let the demon go, but not your own brother?” the Archangel asked.

“The demon I have plans for. You on the other hand... “ he trailed off, clicking his fingers. Raphael exploded in a burst of gore and blood. “So, you see, I saved you,” Cas continued.

“Sure thing, Cas. Thank you,” Dean said, getting to his feet.

“You doubted me, fought against me, but I was right all along,” Castiel said without emotion.

“Okay, Cas, you were. We're sorry. Now let's just defuse you, okay?” Dean said desperately.

“What do you mean?” Cas asked.

“You're full of nuke. It's not safe. So, before the eclipse ends, let's get them souls back to where they belong,” Dean

“Oh no, they belong with me,” Castiel disagreed.

“No, Cas, it's it-it's scrambling your brain,” Dean pressed.

“No, I'm not finished yet. Raphael had many followers, and I must punish them all severely,” Castiel glared.

“Listen to me. Listen, I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too. You don't need this kind of juice anymore, Cas. Get rid of it before it kills us all,” Dean begged.

“You're just saying that because I won. Because you're afraid. You're not my family, Dean. I have no family,” Castiel said. Dean's eyes widened as his face paled.

“I'm not an angel anymore,” Castiel continued. “I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.” John and Bobby knelt. Bobby gave Dean a sharp look and Dean and Sam began to do the same.   
“Stop,” Castiel growled. “What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me. Not love, not respect, just fear.”

“Cas...” Sam trailed off.

“Sam, you have nothing to say to me,” Castiel said. “Get up,” he ordered.

“Cas, come on, this isn't you,” Dean exploded.

“The Castiel you knew is gone,” Castiel replied.

“So what, then? Kill us?” Dean angrily spat.

  
  


“What a brave little ant you are. You know you're powerless, you wouldn't dare move against me again. That would be pointless. So I have no need to kill you. Not now. Besides...once you were my favourite pets before you turned and bit me,” Castiel simpered.

“Who are you?” Dean demanded.

“I'm God. And if you stay in your place, you may live in my kingdom. If you rise up, I will strike you down. Not doing so well, are you Sam?” Castiel asked. Sam looked up in surprise.

“I'm fine...” he said, clearing his throat

“Cas, come on, this is nuts! You can turn this around, please!” Dean begged.

“I hope for your sake this is the last you see me,” Castiel said before disappearing.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
The Reverend stood in front of the throngs of people in the church.

“Plenty speak for them and their so-called lifestyle. Media, Hollywood, Lady GaGa won't shut up for love or money,” he said and the congregation chuckled.  
“Yeah, funny, but that's why we raise our voices! And picket their so-called weddings, and their funerals. Someone has to speak for God.”

“And who says you speak for God?” Castiel said from the door. The congregation turned to look at Castiel.

“You're wrong, I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation. On the other hand, I cannot abide hypocrites like you, Reverend,” Castiel said coldly.

“Okay, fun's over friend,” The Reverend said dismissively. 

“Tell your flock where your genitals have been before you speak for me,” Castiel commanded in a voice like ice.  
“And who the heck are you?” The Reverend demanded.

  
  


“I'm God,” Castiel replied simply. There was a commotion of murmurs amongst the congregation and a man stood, about to speak. Castiel's blue eyes shifted to the man and he fell back, unconscious and the pew broke with a crash.

  
“And he who lies in my name shall choke on his own false tongue, and his poisonous words shall betray him,” Castiel recited, righteous eyes focused on the Reverend. He began to foam at the mouth and choke before falling to his knees, collapsing to the ground, dead.

  
  


“For I am the Lord, your God,” Castiel finished, facing the crowd. He began to walk out of the church, but stopped dead as a voice wafted into his brain. _Castiel..._ He gripped a pew in shock. _Cas!_ Castiel looked over his shoulder at the stained-glass window, portraying Jesus. He straightened and began to walk out of the church again. As his hand left the pew, a scorch mark was left behind. The image in the stained-glass window changed as Castiel passed, forming an image of himself.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
John, Bobby, Dean and Sam walked out of the fireplace in the staff room, gasping. It was the only way they could get back. 

“Damnit!” Dean yelled, punching the wall.

“Dean, calm down,” Sam urged.

“No Sammy! Don't you get it? _Cas is God!_ We're totally screwed!” Dean exclaimed angrily. Suddeny, Sam caught sight of a figure behind Dean.

“Hi, Sam. Long time, no spooning,” Lucifer grinned.  
“You're not here. You're in Hell!” Sam gasped.

“Sam?” Dean asked, his voice so faint... so distant...

“Now, that you're right on,” Lucifer confirmed with a grin.

“It's not real. It's just my brain leaking memories from the cage 'cause of the wall breaking down. That's all,” Sam said in a desperate voice.

  
  


“Sam?!” Dean demanded.

“Hmm. That's very good, your little theory,” Lucifer said thoughtfully. “It's wrong. Sam, this isn't you going guano. Everything else is.”

“What?” Sam demanded.

“Everything... From the second you sprung out of that lock box,” Lucifer chortled.

“That's impossible,” Sam breathed.  
“No. Escaping was impossible. I have to say, I think this is my best torture yet -- make you believe that you're free and then... Yank the wool off of your eyes. You never left, Sam. You're still in the cage... With me,” he taunted.

  
  


“Sam!” Dean yelled. Sam looked up, surprised.

“What the hell was that?” Dean demanded.

“It’s not just flashbacks,” Sam gasped out, leaning over. “It’s more like... I’m seeing through the cracks.” Dean looked confused.  
“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means I’m having a difficult time figuring out what’s real,” Sam gritted.

“Hallucinations,” Dean stated.

“For starters,” Sam stated. 

“What are the hallucinations of?” Dean asked.

“Lucifer,” Sam admitted.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean swore. “We gotta get this sorted out. Together, the hunters ran to the Great Hall. The House Tables were passed quickly and the other hunters stood as they approached. Dean noticed as the Campbells tensed, 

“What happened?” Jim asked.

“Cas is God,” Dean stated. “He took in the souls from Purgatory. Raphael is dead.”

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Bobby, Sam and Dean stood in the dungeons yet again.  
“Well, let's light this candle,” Bobby sighed. “ _Te nunc invoco, mortem. Te in mea potestate defixi. Nunc et in aeternum!” They all looked around._

  
  


“Um... Hello? Death?” Dean called.

“You're joking,” Death said in a bored voice. Dean turned to look at him, looking remorseful. 

“I'm sorry, Death. This isn't what it seems,” Dean explained quickly. Death raised his hands, and there was a thin silvery thread around both wrists.

“Seems like you bound me,” Death stated.

  
  


“For good reason, okay? Just, uh, hear us out,” Dean said in a fast voice, heart racing. Death frowned.

“This is about Sam's hallucinations, I assume?” Death said with a raised eyebrow. “Sorry, Sam. One wall per customer. Now unbind me,” he demanded.

“We can't. Y-yet,” Sam answered in a shaky voice, eyes squeezing shut as the devil screamed in his mind.

  
  


“This isn't going to end well,” Death drawled.

“We need you to kill God,” Dean declared.

“Pardon?” Death asked, looking up inquisitively. 

“Kill God. You heard right. Your... Honour,” Bobby said in a respectful tone.

“What makes you think I can do that?” Death asked. 

“You told me,” Dean answered confidently. 

“Why should I?” Death inquired, a note of a threat in his voice.

“Because... We said so, and we're the boss of you,” Dean said. Sam looked at him, eyes wide. “I mean... Respectfully.” Suddenly, Castiel's voice rang through the room and the three hunters turned in shock.

  
  


“Amazing,” Castiel stated in an airy voice.

“Cas,” Sam said, swallowing. 

“I didn't want to kill you, but now...” he said. Dean and Sam gaped. 

“You can't kill us!” Dean glared.

  
  


“You've erased any nostalgia I had for you, Dean,” Castiel replied coldly, raising his hand, fingers ready to snap. Dean tried not to flinch as he pressed on.

“Death is our bitch. We ain't gonna die, even if God pulls the trigger.”

“Annoying little protozoa, aren't they?” Death mused. “God? You look awfully like a mutated Angel to me. Your vessel's melting. You're going to explode,” he told Castiel.

“No, I'm not. When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself,” Castiel replied in a cold tone.

“You think you can because you think you're simply under the weight of all those souls, yes? But that's not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in Purgatory, and you gulped those in, too.”

“Irrelevant. I control them.”

“For the moment,” Death stated.

“Wait -- uh, what older things?” Dean asked, stepping forward.

  
  


“Long before God created Angel and man, he made the first beasts, the Leviathans,” Death proclaimed.

“Leviathans?” Dean asked.  
“I personally found them entertaining, but he was concerned they'd chomp the entire petri dish, so he locked them away. Why do you think he created Purgatory? To keep those clever, poisonous things out. Now Castiel has swallowed them. He's the one thin membrane between the old ones and your home,” Death explained.

  
  


“Enough,” Castiel interrupted.

“Stupid little soldier you are,” Death sneered,

“Why? Because I dared open a door that he shut? Where is he? I did a service, taking his place,” Castiel hissed, approaching Death

“Service? Settling petty vendettas?”

“No. I'm cleaning up one mess after another, selflessly.”  
“All right, put your junk away, both of you. Look, call him what you want. Just kill him now!” Dean exclaimed. Castiel turned to look at him.

“All right. Fine,” Death said, raising a hand. Castiel snapped his fingers and the thread-like string around his wrists disappeared. 

“Thank you.” he smiled. “Shall we kickbox now? I had a tingle I'd be reaping someone very, very soon. Don't worry, not you.” Castiel disappeared. “Well, he was in a hurry.”

“Death, please, is there any way you can help us?” Sam asked. Death sighed.

  
  


“Your only hope is to have him return it all to Purgatory. Quickly,” Death told him. “Pesky little Angel, that one.”

“We need a door,” Sam stated.

“You have everything you need at that lab. Get him to return there and compel him to give up the power,” Death instructed.

“Compel?” Dean questioned.

“Figure it out,” Death replied in a bored tone.

“But that door only opens in the eclipse, and that's over,” Bobby cut in. 

“I'll make another. At 3am on the morning of May 2nd, just before dawn. Be punctual. Don't thank me. Clean up your mess. Try to bind me again, you'll die before you start,” Death glared.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


Castiel stood in the campaign office in shock. All around him were the corpses, bloody, eyes staring lifelessly. Castiel reared back, breathing hard.

“No, no, no,” he chanted in a mantra. This couldn't be happening. He heard a voice enter his brain. _“Hey, Castiel. Um... Maybe this is pointless. Look... I don't know if any part of you even cares, but, um, I still think you're one of us, deep down. I mean, way, way, way off the reservation, but... Look, we still have till dawn to stop this. Let us help. Please.”_

  
  


_Sam and Dean._ That was the answer. Castiel knew, even though he had betrayed them, they would help. He disappeared at once and manifested in the Demonology classroom, where a class was taking place.  
“Sam?” he asked. Sam spun to face him.

“Cas,” he said in slight shock.

“I heard your call. I need help,” Castiel begged.


	25. The Beginning of the End

**Chapter 25**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, May 1 st 2011**

Hermione was, if anything, a dutiful student. She spent most of her free time, apart from spending time with Harry and Ron, in the library. She stayed there so much that the librarian knew her by name and always had her special books on reserve for her.  
“Here you go Hermione.” She would smile brightly.   
“Thank you ma’am.” Hermione replied. As she was taking the books off the counter she noticed a small book lying on a pile of returned books. “I think I’ll take this book too, if you don’t mind.”   
“Of course Hermione, you are welcome to take it.” The librarian handed the book to her without giving it a second thought.  
Hermione took her pile of books back to a table by the windows, the whole time she stared at the book. It was titled “The Tales of Beedle the Bard” it had small drawings of different characters, one of which was a man with a cloak over his head that looked remarkably like Harry.

The man was standing beside another man holding a wand and another holding a small stone, the three objects that the men were holding were emphasized on the cover like they were important. She opened the book and began to read.   
“It’s a children’s book?” She questioned herself. She almost started to shut the book and go back to her studies when she reached the story titled “ _The Tale of the Three Brothers._ ”   
When she read the whole story through, she immediately returned the other books, checking out the children’s book and going straight to Ron and Harry.

  
  


She found them in the Gryffindor Common Room, parchment and books strewn around them. _Typical,_ she thought. She put the book on the table.

“Look at this,” she said. 

“The tales of Beedle the Bard?” Ron asked with a raised eyebrow. “That's a book of kid's stories.”

“Why is this so important?” Harry asked.

“I've seen this symbol before,” Hermione mused.

“Where?” Harry asked.

“Luna was wearing a pendant like that,” Hermione finished. Ron scoffed.

“I wouldn't put much faith in what she says though,” Ron commented. 

"What does this have to do with anything? We should be focusing our efforts into homework. Snape will kill us if we don't get this done, and I really don't need more detentions.' 

“Harry I think there's something behind this,” Hermione pressed. She opened the book and turned to _The Tale of the Three Brothers_ and began to read.When she had finished, she gasped in realisation. 

“Harry! Your cloak!” she gasped.

"My cloak? I'm sure there are a lot of magical cloaks out there right?" Harry said in an incredulous voice.

“That's it, there isn't!” Hermione said excitedly. “Invisibility cloaks wear out over time, and get tears. Your one is perfect. Plus, your father owned it when he was in Hogwarts, so there is a history behind it.”

"But where would we begin to look into this further?" 

“Maybe Dumbledore would know more?” Hermione suggested.

“I can ask him. He wants me to go down to him soon,” Harry told them. He rummaged in his bag, pulling out the vial of Felix Felicis and handed it to Ron. 

“Just in case Malfoy tries something,” he said.

“We’ll have to discuss this later,” Harry got up and walked over to the door. “I’ve got a meeting with Dumbledore to get to.”

  
Harry walked down the corridors until he reached the bronze eagle, and he walked up the staircase to Dumbledore’s office. He was standing by the window looking down on the grounds.  
“You wanted to see me Professor?” Harry announced himself.  
“Well, Harry, I promised that you could come with me." He replied without turning.  
“You've found one? You've found a Horcrux?" Realization hit him.   
"I believe so."

  
"Which Horcrux is it? Where is it?" Harry asked anxiously.  
"I am not sure which it is--though I think we can rule out the snake--but I believe it to be hidden in a cave on the coast many miles from here, a cave I have been trying to locate for a very long time: the cave in which Tom Riddle once terrorized two children from his orphanage on their annual trip; you remember?"  
"Yes," said Harry. "How is it protected?"

  
  


"I do not know; I have suspicions that may be entirely wrong." Dumbledore hesitated, then said, "Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by that promise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous."  
"I'm coming," said Harry, almost before Dumbledore had finished speaking.  
"Very well, then: listen." Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height.  
"I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once, and without question."  
"Yes, sir." Harry trusted Dumbledore, even with his life.  
"Very good. Then I wish you to go and fetch your Cloak and meet me in the Entrance Hall in five minutes' time."

  
Well this will be the perfect opportunity to test out Hermione’s theory about the hall. Harry walked down the corridors until he reached the bronze eagle, and he walked up the staircase to Dumbledore’s office. He was standing by the window looking down on the grounds.  
“You wanted to see me professor?” Harry announced himself.  
“Well, Harry, I promised that you could come with me." He replied without turning.  
“You've found one? You've found a Horcrux?" Realization hit him.   
"I believe so."

  
"Which Horcrux is it? Where is it?" Harry asked anxiously.  
"I am not sure which it is--though I think we can rule out the snake--but I believe it to be hidden in a cave on the coast many miles from here, a cave I have been trying to locate for a very long time: the cave in which Tom Riddle once terrorized two children from his orphanage on their annual trip; you remember?"

  
"Yes," said Harry. "How is it protected?"

"I do not know; I have suspicions that may be entirely wrong." Dumbledore hesitated, then said, "Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by that promise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous."  
"I'm coming," said Harry, almost before Dumbledore had finished speaking.  
"Very well, then: listen." Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height.  
"I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once, and without question."

  
"Yes, sir." Harry trusted Dumbledore, even with his life.  
"Very good. Then I wish you to go and fetch your Cloak and meet me in the Entrance Hall in five minutes' time."

“Professor, speaking of the Cloak, Hermione found something today. She read from a children’s book, the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_.” When Harry finished speaking, he noticed that Dumbledore had looked up.

  
  


“I was curious. My Cloak. It sounds a lot like the one in the story, _The Tale of the Three Brothers._ It hasn't worn out in all these years. Plus, I saw someone with a pendant, and the symbol was on the book.”

“Harry I believe this story to be true. The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility. The real reason I possessed your father's Cloak is that I was aware it was a Hallow, and I wished to inspect it. Now Harry, we must go.”

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
The Great Hall was buzzing with idle chatter from the students and teachers.

“Dude what are you talking about Halle Berry was awesome in that movie.” Dean mused over his coffee. “And sexy too.”

“Hey!” Jo slapped his shoulder. “I’m sitting right here.”

Sam started to laugh. “Marriage is gonna suck for you Dean.”

All of a sudden there was a loud booming on the doors, the Hall became silent. The hunters that were sitting at the ends of all the house tables reached for their weapons as well as the hunters sitting at the teachers table.

 

A loud boom sounded once more and the doors flew open revealing around 200 people standing in the entrance way, one individual broke away from the pack and looked directly at Sam and Dean. She was tall blonde and had this twisted smile on her face. She was wearing a leather jacket and one of those ‘ _I heart Justin Bieber_ ’ t-shirts on.

 

“Well, well, well, I get sent on some crap mission and look who I find. I’m surprised that you two have lived this long.” She grinned, turning to her ‘friends’. “You know our orders!”

Dean realized what was happening and said. “EVERYONE GET DOWN!”

“Who the hell are you?” Sam demanded.

“Huh, wouldv'e thought you'd remember me,” the woman teased. “Last time I saw you guys, you set my father free and then Dean stabbed me.”

“Ruby?” Sam growled.

 

“Yep!” Ruby grinned. “Looks like your Angel friend wasn't the only one that liked resurrection. He wasn't able to bring back those who were killed by the Colt or Sammy's powers.”

Sam fought back the bile rising in his throat. “You’ll be the first one I send back to Hell.”

 

It was a total free-for-all; students were trying to defend themselves, and not doing such a hot job. Then Sam came face to face with one of his own students.

She growled at him and her eyes turned black. She went for his weak spots, throat, chest, under his arms. He was struggling to contain her without killing her, he also noticed that the other hunters weren’t thinking that way. They weren’t thinking about the people being possessed, they were just shooting anything that moved.

“STOP! YOU HAVE TO STOP KILLING THEM!” Sam screamed at the top of his lungs still fighting of his student.

“What in the Hell are you talkin’ about boy?!” Bobby yelled back. “These are demons!”

“But they are also people! Some are my students!”

“If you’ve got a better idea then I’m all ears!” He grunted as he blew another one away.

Dean rushed over to Sam and hit the girl on the back of her head with the butt of his gun. “Sammy, start fighting back!”

 

“Dean these are kids!” Sam was now back to back with dean.

“Just before I go to kill one of them they bounce into another body, we can’t protect them all Sammy!”

“We can’t just blow them away.” Sam’s face turned grim as he contemplated his next move. “I have to try it.”

 

Dean saw where this was going. “Sam, you can’t! You’ll die!”

“I have to try! It’s the only way to save them! Cover me!” Sam raced back to the head table.

“Sam you idiot come back!” Dean’s screams faded away into nothing. He had exorcised demons before when he was BFF's with Ruby but not this many at a time, with so many distractions, and he didn’t have nearly enough demon blood in his system. But he still had to try!

Sam stood on top of the teacher’s table right at the head and concentrated.

“What is that idgit doing?” Bobby looked at Sam and continued fighting.

“He’s going to try and send the demons back to Hell.” Dean cried out in anguish, not knowing what to do.

 

“Well, you heard him Dean!” Bobby’s eyes glinted with the thrill of battle. “Go cover that boy’s ass before he gets us all killed.

“Can you handle them all old timer?” Dean smirked.

He was answered by an elderly woman being flung in between them; they looked to see John who had flung her. Mary was right beside him and punched some nerdy guy in a suit.

“Way to go Mom!” Dean hadn’t seen his mom in action yet, it was pretty awesome.

“You go and help your brother.” She grinned back.

“We’ve got this.” John grasped Mary’s hand tightly and spun her around and she kicked every single demon that was surrounding them in the face.

 

“I’ve forgotten how great this feels!” she grinned. Confident that he could go protect Sammy, Dean rushed up to his brother.

“What the hell are we gonna do?” Sam asked. Dean didn't have an answer.

“I don't know, you're the freaky demon banisher here!” Dean hissed. “I thought you had a plan!”

“We have to get more hunters here!” Sam yelled.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
The scream of rage, of denial left the Dark Lord as if it were a stranger's. He was crazed, frenzied, it could not be true. How was it possible that the boy could have discovered his secret? All who were in the room were slain, all of them, for bringing him this news, for hearing about news from the King of Hell.  
  
But surely if the boy had destroyed any of his Horcruxes, he, Lord Voldemort, would have known, would have felt it? He, the greatest wizard of them all; he, the most powerful. How could Lord Voldemort not have known, if he, himself, most important and precious, had been attacked, mutilated? True, he had not felt it when the diary had been destroyed, but he had thought that was because he had no body to fell, being less than ghost... No, surely, the rest were safe... The demon could be lying. It just wasn't possible that all but the locket and Nagini were left. He had to check. He must return to each of his hiding places, redouble the protection.  
  
Which was in most danger? An old unease flickered inside him. He must check the Gaunts house first. Surely Dumbledore would know by now. The lake, was impossible. And Hogwarts... it would be impossible for Potter to get his hands on it. Nagini needed to be at his side now. He strode from the room, through the hall, and out into the dark garden where the fountain played; he called the snake in Parseltongue and it slithered out to join him.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
 _He knows,_ _w_ as the first thought to go through Harry Potter's mind as he snapped out of his thoughts. Dumbledore was weak, having drank the potion. Dumbledore scooped the locket from the bottom of the stone basin and stowed it inside his robes.

Wordlessly, he gestured to Harry to come to his side. Harry was shaking all over. He seized Dumbledore and helped him back to his seat in the boat. Once they were both safely jammed inside again, the boat began to move back across the black water, away from the rock, still encircled by that ring of fire, and it seemed that the Inferi swarming below them did not dare resurface.

  
"Sir," panted Harry. "Sir, I forgot, about fire, they were coming at me and I panicked-"  
"Quite understandable," Dumbledore murmured. Harry was alarmed to hear how faint his voice was. They reached the bank with a little bump and Harry leapt out, then turned quickly to help Dumbledore. The moment that Dumbledore reached the bank he let his wand hand fall; the ring of fire vanished, but the Inferi did not emerge again from the water. The little boat sank into the water once more; clanking and tinkling, its chain slithered back into the lake too. Dumbledore gave a great sigh and leaned against the cavern wall.

  
"I am weak..." he said.  
"Don't worry, sir," said Harry at once, anxious about Dumbledore's extreme pallor and by his air of exhaustion. "Don't worry, I'll get us back... lean on me, sir..."  
And pulling Dumbledore's uninjured arm around his shoulders, Harry guided his headmaster back around the lake, bearing most of his weight.  
"The protection was... after all... well-designed," said Dumbledore faintly. "One alone could not have done it... you did well, very well, Harry..."  
"Don't talk now," said Harry, fearing how slurred Dumbledore's voice had become, how much his feet dragged, "save your energy, sir... we'll soon be out of here..."  
"The archway will have sealed again... my knife ..."  
"There's no need, I got cut on the rock," said Harry firmly. "Just tell me where..."  
"Here..."  
Harry wiped his grazed forearm upon the stone: having received its tribute of blood, the archway reopened instantly. They crossed the outer cave, and Harry helped Dumbledore back into the icy seawater that filled the crevice in the cliff. Turning rapidly, he felt the strange pull of Apparation and they were in Hogsmeade, facing the castle. The castle was partly engulfed in flames and sparks were flashing from spells flying through the air. 

“What's happening?” Harry said in shock.


	26. The Casualties of War

**Chapter 26**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, May 1 st 2011**

The demons were held at bay for the moment. Dean and Sam were going through the students rapidly. Sam had always had a sixth sense of sorts, for knowing where the supernatural were. It had started when he was twenty three, and had been the only ability to stay after Azazel's death.

“The demons are gone,” Sam reported. “From the Hall at least.”

“Ohh, look at Sammy being all diplomatic. I love it when you take control,” Lucifer smirked. Sam winced.

"What's going on?" Samuel shouted. “What's the plan?”  
"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized," Dean called back "We're fighting." Every eye was fixed upon Minerva, who was speaking from the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teachers. 

  
  


The doors to the Great Hall burst open and the members of the Order of the Phoenix entered. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Remus, Kingsley, Sirius, Mad Eye Moody, Fleur, Bill, Charlie and Hiesta Jones. After them, came the hunters. Sam and Dean had managed to reach a number of them and luckily, they agreed to help. Annie Hawkins, Rufus, Garth, Willie, Raj, Lee Chambers, and Ezra Moore entered, weapons at the ready.

  
"The evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges in orderly fashion to the evacuation point," Minerva announced. Many of the students looked petrified. A Hufflepuff student -Ernie Macmillan, Dean realised- stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted; "And what if we want to stay and fight?" There was a loud roar of applause.  
"If you are of age, you may stay." said Minerva. "The important thing is to get those under-age out of here safely."

  
"Where's Professor Dumbledore?" shouted a girl from the Gryffindor table.  
"He was absent from the school tonight on business." replied Minerva. "We have already placed protection around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects say.” 

  
  


Her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed throughout the Hall.  
" _I know that you are preparing to fight._ " There were screams among the students. " _Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight._ "

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore," Fenrir Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly.   
"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? It is most unusual ... you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"  
"That's right," said Greyback. "Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

  
"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," said Dumbledore. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live..."  
"I didn't," breathed Malfoy. He was not looking at Greyback. He did not seem to want to even glance at him. "I didn't know he was going to come-"

  
"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore," rasped Greyback. "Not when there are throats to be ripped out ... delicious, delicious …" And he raised a yellow fingernail and picked at his front teeth, leering at Dumbledore.  
"I could do you for afters, Dumbledore …"

  
"No," said the fourth Death Eater sharply. He had a heavy, brutal-looking face. "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly." Malfoy was hesitating, his face even paler.

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" said the lopsided man, to the accompaniment of his sister's wheezing giggles. "Look at him--what's happened to you, then, Dumby?"  
"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus," said Dumbledore. "Old age, in short ... one day, perhaps, it will happen to you ... if you are lucky ..."  
"What's that mean, then, what's that mean?" yelled the Death Eater, suddenly violent. "Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing, I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yeh! Come on, Draco, do it!"

  
"Yes, Draco, quickly!" said the brutal-faced man angrily. But Malfoy's hand was shaking so badly that he could barely aim.  
"I'll do it," snarled Greyback, moving towards Dumbledore with his hands outstretched, his teeth bared.  
"I said no!" shouted the brutal-faced man; there was a flash of light and the werewolf was blasted out of the way; he hit the ramparts and staggered, looking furious.

"Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us" screeched the woman, but at that precise moment the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there stood Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the four Death Eaters, including the enraged werewolf, and Malfoy.

"We've got a problem, Snape," said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, "the boy doesn't seem able-" But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.  
"Severus …" Snape said nothing, but walked forwards and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. "Severus ... please …" Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.  
"Avada Kedavra!"

  
The jet of green light that shot from Snape's wand hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Dumbledore was blasted into the air and then he fell slowly backwards over the stone railing and out of sight. Harry felt the weight of the spell leave him. No... was the only thought to run through his mind. He was still under the Invisibility Cloak as Snape grabbed Malfoy and they ran. The other Death Eaters sprinted after them. Harry removed the Cloak, racing after Malfoy and Snape. Harry sprinted through the corridor. Dumbledore couldn't possibly be dead. It was impossible to Harry.

  
  


Harry raced down the various steps and hallways. After what seemed like an age, Harry raced down the main stairs in the Entrance Hall. Sam and Dean were there, guns raised high as they battled the hoards of demons and Death Eaters. Harry could see an assortment of other creatures joining the mix. Vampires, Dementors, Werewolves and more. Harry raced up to the two brothers.

"Harry, where's Albus?" Sam asked as he shoved Ruby's knife into a demon’s chest and removing it.

"Snape... he.. he killed Dumbledore," Harry gasped, green eyes wide behind the round glasses. Sam and Dean's eyes went wide.

"Son of a bitch, I knew that bastard was evil," Dean muttered.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Sam said softly. A scream ripped through the air.

  
  


"Jo!" Dean roared as his wife fell to the ground. She was still alive, thankfully. Dean ran over and punched the demon away. 

"You okay babe?" Dean asked.

“Fine,” Jo said, hand, protectively lying against her stomach. She rose to her feet.

“I need to get you out of here!” Dean picked her up, careful not to jostle her.  
“What are you doing? Put me down I can still fight!” She protested.  
“No you can’t.” Dean snapped at her. Looking at her more closely she had a gash in her forehead and she was gasping as she clutched her right knee in pain. “I’m taking you to a safe place.”  
“No! You put me down right now you big dumbass!” she started pounding on his chest.   
“Jo, I’m not going to lose you again.” Dean murmured darkly. “Don’t make me watch you die this time.” Something in Jo seemed to freeze her, but she still looked determined to fight as Dean brought her away from the fighting. 

“Dean no!” Jo screamed at him, as the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. Harry had told him of this room before, and it was perfect. He had heard from one of the Order that some of the students had been put here for safety, as not many people knew about this room. He opened the door. 

“No Dean!” Jo roared again. “If you think I'm just gonna stand here while my friends and family battle, you've got another thing coming!”

“I'm sorry Jo,” Dean said as he closed the door on her, the door disappearing as he thought. _Do not let her out._

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Dean, Bobby and Sam entered the dungeon with Castiel. Dean was supporting Cas, who was staggering and weak.  
“We need the right blood. There's a small jar -- end of the hall, s-supply closet,” Castiel slurred.

“Got it,” Sam said, returning with the jar of blood. He painted the sigil on the cement wall.

“Dean?” Cas asked.

“What, you need something else?” Dean asked.

“No. I feel regret, about you and what I did to Sam,” Castiel said, midnight blue eyes filled with despair and defeat.

“Yeah, well, you should,” Dean replied simply.

“If there was time, if I was strong enough, I'd -- I'd fix him now. I just wanted to make amends before I die,” Cas croaked.

“Okay,” Dean replied.

“Is it working?” Castiel asked.

“Does it make you feel better?” Dean asked, ignoring Castiel's question.

“No. You?” Castiel queried

“Not a bit,” Dean replied.

“Hang in there. Just a couple of minutes,” Bobby said, looking at his watch. “That's good enough. Okay, step right up, Cas.” He helped Castiel to his feet, and faced the wall. Dean saw that it had struck 3am and Bobby began to read the spell

“ _Lanua magna purgatorii, clausa est ob nos lumine eius ab oculis nostris retento sed nunc stamus ad limen huius ianuae magnae et demisse fideliter perhonorifice paramus aperire eam. Creaturae terrificae quarum ungulae et dentes nunquam tetigerunt carnem eius ad mundum nostrum nunc ianua magna, aperta tandem!”_ Bobby recited.

“I'm sorry Dean,” Castiel said, looking back. A burst of light erupted from Castiel. The light rushed into the wall and when it disappeared, Castiel collapsed.

“Cas?” Dean said, rushing to Castiel.

“He's cold,” Bobby sighed, 

“Is he breathing?” Dean asked, silently begging.

“No,” Bobby replied. Dean shook his head.

“Maybe angels don't need to breathe,” he said desperately.

“He's gone, Dean,” Bobby said softly. Dean rose to his feet. 

“Damn it. Cas, you child. Why didn't you listen to me?” Dean choked, voice thick with emotion. “Cas?! Hey! Hey!” he exclaimed as Cas's eyes suddenly flew open, inhaling in a huge gasp.

“Okay. All right,” Dean said softly, helping Castiel to sit.

“That was unpleasant,” Castiel noted.

  
  


“Let's get him up. Easy, there,” Dean said as both he and Bobby helped Castiel to his feet. Sam looked on in concern.

“I'm alive,” Castiel breathed. “I'm astonished. Thank you, all of you.” 

“We were mostly... just trying to save the world,” Bobby replied, with a small smile.

“I'm ashamed. I really overreached,” Cas replied in a breath of shock. “I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you.”

“You think?”Dean said sarcastically. “All right, well, one thing at a time. Come on. Let's get you out of here. Come on.”

“I mean it, Dean,” Cas pressed.

“Okay. All right,” Dean replied simply. Castiel gasped suddenly, a roar of pain erupting from his mouth.

“You need to run now! I-I can't hold them back!” Castiel yelled.

“Hold who back?” Dean asked.

“They held on inside me. Dean, they're so strong,” Castiel gasped, doubling over.

“Who the hell?” Dean breathed.

“Leviathan! Dean I have to get rid of them!” Castiel exclaimed. He groaned. “The Lake outside. The enchantments, they would kill them!”

“No Cas!” Dean roared. “You're not sacrificing yourself!” 

“Dean, the Leviathans will cause unimaginable disaster! I must!” Castiel yelled back.

“Then we'll kick it in the ass like we always do!” Dean yelled, still angry. His features softened. “Cas... please.”

“I'm sorry Dean,” Castiel said before he began running out of the dungeon. 

  
  


Dean, Sam and Bobby ran after them. Demons began to try and attack them, but they took them down, needing to stay near Castiel. Outside, the lights lit up the night sky. Jets of red, green and different colours ignited the sky along with the stars.

Castiel bolted towards the lake, walking forward. The water pooled around him and he kept walking until the water engulfed his head. Dean Sam and Bobby stood in shock, watching as the blackness that was the Leviathans spread slowly, but only for a few seconds, until the blackness began to shrink until there was nothing left.

Dean bent, arching to dive. He was just about to jump when Sam grabbed him.

“Sam!” Dean yelled. “Let me go.”

“No Dean! It's suicide!” Sam snarled. Dean continued to struggle.

“Damn it Sam! It's Cas!” Dean snarled.

“Dean whatever was in the Lake. It's killed them,” Sam breathed. “Cas saved us... again.”

“Yeah it killed them, along with Cas,” Dean choked. He looked down, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of a piece of material floating in the water. He bent down, pulling Castiel's trench-coat from the entrapment of the weeds. He bowed his head slightly and sighed. Castiel was dead. There was no denying it, that terrible fact. He was gone. The best friend Dean had ever had. Dean could not count the amount of times Cas had saved them. He'd even pulled Dean from the depths of Hell itself, and later he did the same with Sam. Cas was always willing to help, even when it posed a danger to himself. He remembered Castiel trying to be human, getting drunk and using a cellphone. He heard his own laughing voice echoing in his head. _Y'know it's kinda funny, talking to a messenger of God on a cell phone. It's, you know, like watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped._ Castiel's irritated voice was muffled as his mind replayed it. _This isn't funny, Dean! The voice says I'm almost out of minutes!_ Dean let out a choked half sob, half laugh as a tear fell free from his green eyes.

  
  


“Sam! Dean!” a voice shouted. They turned to see Harry running towards them. “What happened?”

“Cas... he's dead,” Dean replied, voice void of emotion, although it seemed forced. “Why do you have a locket?” 

“It's a piece of Voldemort's soul.” Harry said. Dean and Sam's eyes widened. “ I have to destroy it.”

“How do you do it?” Dean asked.

“I need the fang of a Basilisk.” Harry told them. 

“Where the hell would you find one of those?” Dean said to himself. Sam's eyes widened a little.

“Dean, remember when we were at Dad's lock up?” he asked.

“Yeah, that was ages ago,” Dean said in a confused voice. 

  
  


“There was a fang there. It was labelled as a Basilisk,” Sam said, smiling a little.

“How are we gonna get there?” Dean asked. 

“I'll take you,” Sirius said. Sam and Dean turned. 

“Wait, I thought there was a spell to stop the Apparation thing,” Sam said.

“It was taken down,” Sirius replied. “Everyone had to get here fast to help.” “Come on,” he continued. They out their hands together and suddenly they were in Castle Storage, 42 Rover Hill. Sam moved quickly, looking around before he picked up the fang.

  
  


“Got it!” he said triumphantly.

“I'll do it,” Dean said, stepping forward. He grabbed the locket and the fang from Sam. 

“I have to get it to open.” Harry stated.

“How're you gonna do that?” Sam asked.

“ _Open,_ ” Harry said in the strangled hiss of Parseltongue. The locket burst open. 

  
  


“Dean Winchester,” a horribly familiar voice drifted from the locket as an image of Sam appeared. “You dare call yourself my brother? Who are you compared to everyone else. You're not even human anymore. We don't need you.”

“Yes we don't,” a female voice echoed, forming the beautiful face of Jo, but there was a fierceness to both faces. “You think you can protect your family? You've gotten them all killed, even Castiel. It was your fault. You have never protected them Just like you won't protect your child. You're useless Dean. I don't even know why I married you.”

“Mom confessed,” the wispy image of Sam breathed. “She said that she never really wanted you. She was going to hand you over to Azazel. Dad gave up his life for you. What gratitude did you give him? It's your own fault.”

“And what about poor dead Castiel? He stood by you and you turned your back on him you vile-” the image of Jo cut off into a scream as Dean swung the Basilisk fang into the locket. The loud scream that erupted from the now broken locket faded into deathly silence. Dean's hands were shaking slightly as the fang fell from his grasp. Was it all true? The images had been repeating his fears, but it was when Castiel was mentioned that Dean's resolve broke. The grief was too fresh, too fierce.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his eyes wide. The youngest Winchester's emotions were rising in response to his elder brother's. Dean looked up, mentally preparing himself for more insults as he unexpectedly came face to face with his real, yet slightly tearful, brother. “None of that shit is true.”

“I know. The thing's gone, now let's just get back,” Dean replied in a lifeless voice. They put their hands together again, and they appeared back in the Entrance Hall, ready to resume the fight.


	27. Skipping to the Last Page in the Book

**Chapter 27**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, May 2 nd 2011**

Sam and Dean had returned to the Room of Requirement, where the Weasleys and the hunters were. They updated everyone on the events with Castiel and the hunters gave their condolences. 

“Dean... Sam.. my parents have been killed,” Mary told them. Dean and Sam looked up in surprise. They both felt a pang of grief for Deanna. She was a good kind woman, but Samuel on the other hand... They didnt know what to think. Samuel _was_ their grandfather, but the betrayal Samuel inflicted brought forth no forgiveness. They had never really known Deanna, but in a way, it made it worse.

  
  


Suddenly, the portrait opened and a red haired man with horn rimmed glasses was revealed.

“Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I-" Percy Weasley spluttered into silence as he emerged from behind the portrait hole. He had not expected to run into most of his family. There was a long moment of astonishment. Percy and the other Weasleys were still staring at one another, frozen.

"I was a fool!" Percy roared. "I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a, a-"  
"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," suggested. Fred. Percy swallowed.  
"Yes, I was!"

  
"Well, you can't say fairer than that," said Fred, holding his hand out to Percy. They shook hands as Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushing Fred aside, and pulled Percy into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes on his father.  
"I'm sorry, Dad," Percy said. Mr. Weasley blinked rapidly, then he too hurried to hug his son.  
"What made you see sense, Perce?" inquired George.

  
"It's been coming on for a while," said Percy, mopping his eyes under his glasses with a corner of his travelling cloak. "But I had to find a way out and it's not so easy at the Ministry, they're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Kingsley and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that Hogwarts was going to make a fight of it, so here I am."  
  
"Well, we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these," said George in a good imitation of Percy's most pompous manner. "Now let's get out and fight, or all the good Death Eaters will be taken!"

“I'm guessing you two are the Muggle Professors?” he asked. He shook their hands.

“Yeah, Sam and Dean Winchester,” Sam introduced.

“Nice to meet you,” Sam replied.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Hours passed, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing in the middle of the corridor, sending rapid spells at Death Eaters. They had just reunited. Dean and Harry informed the others of what happened with Dean and the Horcrux.

  
  


“Don't you realize?" whispered Hermione. "This means, if we can just get the snake-" She broke off as yells and shouts and the unmistakable noises of duelling filled the corridor. Harry looked around and his heart seemed to fail: Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts. Fred and Percy had just backed into view, both of them duelling masked and hooded men.  
  
Dean, Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran forward to help: Jets of light flew in every direction and the man duelling Percy backed off, fast: Then his hood slipped and they saw a high forehead and streaked hair.  
  
"Hello, Minister!" bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Scrimgeour, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

  
"You're joking, Perce!" shouted Fred as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Scrimgeour had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him and he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee.  
"You actually are joking, Perce.... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were five!"

  
The air exploded. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean, Fred, and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured had been grouped together. There were screams and yells of his companions heard, without a hope of knowing what had happened to them.  
  
They were half buried in the wreckage of the corridor that had been subjected to an attack. The side of the castle had been blown away. There was a terrible cry. They all stood, looking towards the source of the noise. Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three red-headed men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.  
"No, no, no!" someone was shouting. "No! Percy! No!" And Fred was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Percy's eyes stared without seeing.

"Get down!" Harry shouted, as more curses flew through the night: He and Ron had both grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the floor, but Fred lay across Percy's body, shielding it from further harm, and when Harry shouted "Fred, come on, we've got to move!" he shook his head.  
  
"Fred!" Harry saw tear tracks streaking the grime coating Ron's face as he seized his elder brother's shoulders and pulled, but Fred would not budge. 

"Fred, you can't do anything for him! We're going to go!" Dean urged, knowing exactly how it felt to lose a brother. It was indescribable agony. "Let's move, NOW!" Dean yelled.  
  
Harry stooped to seize Percy's body under the armpit. Fred, realizing what Harry was trying to do, stopped clinging to the body and helped: together, crouching low to avoid the curses flying at them from the grounds, they hauled Percy out of the way.  
  
"Here," said Harry, and they placed him in a niche in the wall. The corridor was now full of dust and falling masonry the glass long gone from the windows. He saw many people running backward and forward, whether friends or foes he could not tell. Rounding the corner, Fred let out a bull-like roar: "ROOKWOOD!" and sprinted off in the direction of a tall man, who was pursuing a couple of students. 

  
Sam had not been seen in several hours and Dean's instincts were on high. Somehow during all the fighting Dean had gotten separated from Sam. He couldn’t worry about Sam right now; he was a big boy who could take care of himself. Although, it didn't stop the worry flowing through his veins. He had always protected his brother, and now that he was away from him, his instincts were screaming at him. 

  
  


The Winchesters were Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with 6 bucks to his name, and Mr. Comatose... Now that one was gone, Dean was determined not to lose another. He couldn't bear to lose Sam. He had raised his little brother, shown him right from wrong, well _his definition._

It was hard to see his pain behind the mask he put on his face. Dean helped raise the body of the man he had met mere hours ago. 

  
  


Ron was crying, Hermione trying to comfort him.

“I wanna kill Death Eaters,” Ron begged.

“It won't help anything. I know you want revenge,” Dean exclaimed.

“What do you know!” Ron roared furiously.

“Because I lost Sam more than once... Believe me, I know what it's like,” Dean sighed. “We can get Percy safe, trust me.” Slowly, Ron nodded. 

Somewhere in the back of Dean's mind, he felt a rush of worry for Sam. He knew, in some way or another that Sam was hurt. Without warning, Dean's head exploded with pain. His heart skipped several times in his chest and left him breathing heavily. He had to find Sam. It was like he could feel Sam's pain.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Sam Winchester held his gun high. The Winchesters had been separated a few hours ago. Lucifer was by his side at all times, screaming in his head. It made it so hard to concentrate. 

“Good morning Vietnam!” Lucifer screamed in his head. Not now... please not now. Sam pressed on, gun firing bullets into Death Eaters and taking them down one by one. His head was pounding.

“Okay, if this is some dream and you got power over it, why don’t you just end it?” Sam demanded. 

  
  


Lucifer grinned.  
“End it? This? You not knowing what’s real, the paint slowly peeling off your walls, come on, man, this is the sweet spot! Why would I end it? Not like we got HBO in the Pit. All I got is you, floating over the coals with half a hope that you’re gonna figure it all out. There’s only one way to figure it out, Sam. It’s up to you. It ends when you can’t take it anymore,” Lucifer smirked. Sam shook his head.

  
  


“Shut up. I said shut up!” Sam shouted.

“You poor clueless son of a bitch,” Lucifer said in an airy voice.  
“Stay the hell away from me,” Sam snarled, backing away.

“Your world is whatever I want it to be, understand?” Lucifer called to him.

“Leave me alone!” Sam roared. Lucifer appeared behind Sam and Sam turned rapidly.

“It’s the big crescendo,” Lucifer simpered.

“I said shut up!” Sam growled, firing the gun.

  
  


“Want to point that gun at someone useful? Try your face,” Lucifer suggested sarcastically. He walked closer to Sam.

“Want to know the truth?” Lucifer asked. “Want to skip to the last page of the book? You know where to aim.” Lucifer held a finger against the underside of his jaw as if it were a gun.

“Cowboy,” he continued, miming pulling the trigger. At the same time, a voice sounded though the corridor.

“Avada Kedavra!” the blast of green light hit Sam in the back, and he fell forward, limp. Lucifer smiled a little before disappearing as Sam's world went dark. In those seconds, Sam thought of his brother and his family. Jessica, his beautiful girlfriend, his mother, his father, who he had argued and fought with, even before his death all those years ago and lastly, his brother, who had raised him, never asking for anything in return. Now who was going to look after Dean now that he was gone? Who was going to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid? The sights and sounds of the battle disappeared into the background. All he knew was darkness. There was pain too, but that eventually it subsided to. He just drifted in nothingness for a while, it didn’t bother him, it was actually kind of nice to not have anyone to save, no one to bother him, no one to tell him who to be or how to act. Maybe this was his personal heaven.

Then there was a light so bright that it was so blinding that he had to cover his eyes. Then things began to come into focus. Before he realized it, he was walking in a garden. He realized that he had been here before.   
“Welcome, we’ve been expecting you.” 

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


_"My Lord," said a voice, desperate and cracked. He turned: there was Lucius Malfoy sitting in the darkest corner, ragged and still bearing the marks of the punishment he had received after the boy's last escape. One of his eyes remained closed and puffy. "My Lord...please...my son..."_

_  
_ _"If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault. He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?"_ _  
_ _"No, never," whispered Malfoy. "You must hope not."_

_  
_ _"Aren't, aren't you afraid, my Lord that Potter might die at another hand but yours?" asked Malfoy, his voice shaking. "Wouldn't it be...forgive me...more prudent to call off this battle, enter the castle, and seek him y-yourself?"_

_  
_ _"Do not pretend Lucius. You wish the battle to cease so that you can discover what has happened to your son. And I do not need to seek Potter. Before the night is out, Potter will have come to find me."_ _  
_ _Voldemort dropped his gaze once more to the wand in his fingers. It troubled him...and those things that troubled Lord Voldemort needed to be rearranged..."Go and fetch Snape."_ _  
_ _"Snape, m-my Lord?"_

_  
_ _"Snape. Now. I need him. There is a service. I require from him. Go."_ _  
_ _Frightened, stumbling a little through the gloom, Lucius left the room. Voldemort continued to stand there, twirling the wand between his fingers, staring at it._ _  
_ _"It is the only way, Nagini," he whispered, and he looked around, and there was the great thick snake, now suspended in mid-air, twisting gracefully within the enchanted, protected space he had made for her, a starry, transparent sphere somewhere between a glittering cage and a tank._

  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Dean, Harry Ron and Hermione were hiding in the room just before the location of the Dark Lord and his servant.

"I sought a third wand, Severus. the Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from Albus Dumbledore. The Malfoy boy brought it to me."  
  
  


"My Lord, let me go to the boy."  
“I have been wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak.

  
"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen. The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine."  
"My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand.

"It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

  
And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.  
" _Kill_." There was a terrible scream.  
"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

  
He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. He pointed the wand at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere.

  
"Harry!" breathed Hermione behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted sideways silently. As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room. Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak. Harry bent over him, and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close. A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.  
"Take...it...Take...it..."

  
More than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue gushed form his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what it was, but did not know what to do. A flask that conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hand by Hermione. Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Harry's robes slackened.

  
"Look...at....me..." he whispered. His eyes fixed with Harry's, and Dean watches as Snape's eyes turned glassy and his hand fell limp with a dull thud.

Hermione let out a sob. Dean moved forward, closing the man's eyes.

  
  


“Damnit,” he muttered. Even though he didn't like the man, it was still a shock. It was a horrid way to die. Dean knew what it was like to die in pain, to feel fangs sinking into flesh and killing, torturing. It was already so back, but a part of Dean's mind was aware it would only get worse. They remained kneeling there, for an unknown amount of time, before a high, cold voicerang through the skies.

  
"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured. I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

  
  
  



	28. Always Hope

**Chapter 28**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, May 2 nd 2011**

Hermione Ron and Dean turned to Harry. Harry's face was pale, green eyes showing a range of emotions Dean couldn't place.

“Harry don't listen to him. We can sort out a new plan,” Hermione begged.

“Yeah mate,” Ron agreed quietly. Dean observed the redhead in that moment. He was aware that Ron and Harry were like brothers, and Dean knew the thought running though the Weasley's mind at that moment. I've already lost one brother, I can't lose another. 

  
  


“We gotta go back,” Dean urged. “We need to fight. We're in it this far and there's no damn way we're giving up.” Slowly Harry nodded and rose to his feet. They crawled back through the tunnel that led back to the huge tree, The Whomping Willow, Dean thought was the name of it.

  
  


The castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted entrance hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were still scattered all over the floor, along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the banisters had been blown away.

  
  


"Where is everyone?" whispered Hermione.

Ron led the way to the Great Hall. Harry stopped in the doorway.

The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, staying close to each other and offering comfort. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers. The dead lay in a row in the middle of the Hall. 

  
  


Dean walked down the aisle. As he passed, he looked down, stomach nearly up-chucking as recognised several faces. Some were students, just kids, nothing more than that. Other were older than he, members of the Order of the Phoenix, fellow teachers at Hogwarts and people he had only spotted once or twice. Students' parents, their families, fighting for their lives, just like Dean was for his own. 

  
  


He recognised Colin Creevy, a hyper, lively boy of fifteen. He was in Gryffindor, in Ginny's year. He must have sneaked back in to the castle to fight. His younger brother, Dennis, was probably already gone with the other under-age students. Colin was probably one of the youngest deaths in the Hall. Dean sighed. His gaze shifted, locking on the other students. Lavender Brown, Ron's ex-girlfriend. She was lying, pale and cold, with her throat savagely torn out. Dean didn't even want to know what had done this to her. There were several more students dead. Vincent Crabbe, one of Malfoy's minions. 

  
  


“She's passed. She's gone,” he heard the sobbing voice of Sybill Trelawney reached his ears and he looked over to see her and another student pull a blanket over Professor Babbling, who taught the Study of Ancient Runes. 

  
  


He walked forward, heart racing. He saw as Ron ran towards the group of six red heads. Fred and George, who Dean had gotten along very well with, were both crying. Ginny was huddling into her mother's side, silent tears cascading down her cheeks. Molly was sobbing freely, lying against Percy's chest. Her husband was stroking her back, as tears trailed under the glasses. Without a word to anyone, Ron and Hermione walked away. Hermione approached Ginny, whose face was swollen and blotchy, and hugged her. Ron joined Bill, Fleur, who flung their arms around Ron's shoulders. 

Dean moved forward, and knelt down.

  
  


“I'm sorry Molly,” he said gently. The mother looked up, her face swollen with tears and eyes filled with a grief Dean had felt twice before, the first with his knees in the mud, clutching Sam in Cold Oak, and lying in that cemetery, watching as Sam threw himself into the Pit.

“Thank you Dean,” Molly choked out. “I'm sorry too. About Sam.”

“Sam? What happened?” Dean asked in a rapid tone, heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. He saw Molly's face drain of the little colour it had. 

  
  


“Dean!” he heard his father yell from further down the Hall. Dean stood. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Harry had left the Hall, not daring to approach the Weasley family. A small part of his mind wondered where he had gone. As he went past the Weasley family, he noticed another staff member had lost their lives. Horace Slughorn had been murdered. Dean noticed with a pang of sadness that the man was good, a little eccentric at times, but good nonetheless.

  
  


He walked towards his family, noticing his mother was crying . As he approached, he saw that several hunters had also been killed. He saw his grandparent's bodies lying as he passed them. He had known, since Mary had told them herself, but it was still a shock seeing the bodies for himself. Behind them, he saw the burgundy coloured hair of Annie Hawkins, a fellow hunter that Dean had been friends with. Beside her, lay Caleb, Rufus, Jim, Gwen, Christian, Johnny and Mark Campbell. Dean paled. The Campbells were dead. 

His footfalls became closer as he saw his father kneeling beside a body, his back to him. Mary was stroking the person's hair, and Jo looked up, meeting Dean's gaze. Someone had let her out of the Room of Requirement. Ellen and John both were trying to comfort Mary. Jessica was sobbing, clutching the body's hand. Dean's heart nearly stopped. No, that didn't mean what he thought it meant. 

  
  


He dropped to his knees. The body, it was Sam. His worst fears had been realized. Sammy's eyes were glassy, a fixed, lifeless brown as they stared upwards at the enchanted ceiling. Dean's throat closed as every fibre of his being tried to deny the truth, that Sammy was gone, dead. The word death was final, nothing could stop it. Everyone died at some point. Bewilderment began to seep in. How could Sammy be dead? It just wasn't true, he wouldn't believe it. 

  
  


With a fierceness that surprised his family, he lunged forward, interlocking both hands and began pressing down on Sammy's chest in steady pumps. As he worked, he heard his father's distant voice trying to tell him that it was no use. He kept working, reaching the end of the cycle, and he pinched his brother's stone cold nostrils shut and breathed into his mouth. He resumed the CPR, not caring if he broke a rib or two. Better alive with a broken rib than dead. There had been no preparation and no time to gradually absorb the reality that the world was about to change dramatically. Instead, there was the sudden destruction of the world Dean used to know. No gradual transition, just sudden and blinding pain. 

"Please Sammy, don't you dare give up on me!” Dean begged, continuing to work. His arms gave out suddenly, and he collapsed, sobbing onto his brother's chest.

  
  


"No," he cried, he sobs releasing from his chest in painful spurts. Sammy, his little brother.... He sat up slowly, looking into the face of his brother. His eyes were open, the first thing he had noticed about his brother. His face was stark white, a blue tinge to his skin. His normally giant 6"5 brother looked tiny in death. He felt helpless, vulnerable. All through his brother's life, he had tried to help him, raise him. He had made Sam's lunch for him, even as a child, stopped his nightmares. Sure they had bitched and argued non stop, but that was what made them brothers. The weight of the grief and pain pressed down on him. He moved his shaking hand towards his brother's face. His fingertips rested on Sammy's eyelids and slid them shut. 

  
  


There was barely any damage to his body. There were a few cuts and scrapes. A deep gash in his cheek, in which the blood had long clotted, stood out in an obscene fashion against the pale skin. 

"I'm so sorry Professor," a voice sounded sounded behind him. Puffy, tear filled eyes looked up to see a tearful Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

  
  


"He was a good guy," Ron finished for Hermione, who looked like she was unable to speak. Dean's voice choked on a sob at Ron's use of the past tense. Because that's all that would be used when referring to Sammy now, was.... He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and moving his fingers to brush against his little brother's brown hair.

"Yeah, he agreed quietly.

  
  


Suddenly, a high cold voice yelled through the silence in the lull of the battle.

"Harry Potter is dead!" Voldemort's voice echoed. Hermione and Ron's heads snapped up and they bolted for the door, as did many of the hunters and wizards. They sprinted outside the Entrance Hall, into the courtyard, where they stopped in shock. The Death Eaters came to a halt in a line facing the open front doors of the school. Harry lay limp in Hagrid's arms. 

  
  


"NO!" Minerva screamed. Dean's head whipped to the side as he heard a crazy black haired female Death Eater cackling in laughter at Minerva's despair.

"No!" Hermione and Ron screamed together.

"Harry! HARRY!" Ginny screamed. She lunged forward, and Arthur pulled her back, shouting, "No!" It was like a trigger for the Death Eaters, who began to cheer and laugh triumphantly.

  
  


"SILENCE!" Voldemort cried. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!" Hagrid, as if he were holding a newborn baby, and not a seventeen year old man lowered Harry onto the grass in the way Dean would have done with his brother.

"You see?" Voldemort continued, pacing in front of Harry's body. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

  
  


"He beat you!" Ron roared and the survivors of the battle began screaming in defiance. There was a bang, and everyone was silent.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort, and there was a relish in his voice for the lie. "killed while trying to save himself!" There was a scuffle and a shout, another bang, a flash of light, and a grunt of pain. Neville Longbottom had broken free of the crowd and faced Voldemort.

"And who is this?" Voldemort asked in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?" The woman gave a delighted laugh.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, standing between the survivors and the Death Eaters.

  
  


"I'd like to say something," Neville said. Voldemort looked surprised, but them he sneered.

"Well, Neville I'm sure we'd all be fascinated to hear what you have to say," he taunted.

"It doesn't matter that Harry's gone," Neville said loudly.

"Stand down, Neville," Seamus Finnegan interrupted, concerned for his fellow Gryffindor.

  
"People die everyday!" Neville exclaimed. "Friends, family. Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. But he's still with us. In here," he said,pointing to his heart. "So is Percy, Professor Dumbledore, Lavender and Professor Winchester. All of them. They didn't die in vain!" He turned to Voldemort, who was laughing. 

  
  


"But you will! Because you're wrong! Harry's heart did beat for us. For all of us!" Neville exclaimed. He ripped the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat, that had been in his hand. "And it's not over!" He lunged forward, swiping the sword horizontally through Nagini, her head falling to the ground.

  
  


Chaos erupted. The light and dark sides ran for each other. Harry shoved himself out of Hagrid's arms, running and dodging the spells. Voldemort roared in rage. Dean sprinted forward to see Ginny's wand flying out of her hand as the crazy haired woman that had laughed at Minerva grinned triumphantly.

  
  


"NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!" Molly Weasley screamed, throwing off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" Molly shouted to the three girls, and with a simple swipe of her wand she began to duel. Harry watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twisted, and the woman's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both woman were fighting to kill.

  
  


"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

  
  


"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted the female Death Eater, as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You-will-never-touch-our-children-again!" Molly screamed. The woman laughed as Molly's curse soared beneath the Death Eater's constricted arm and hit her directly over her heart. Her smile froze, her eyes bulging. She toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

  
  


Dean knew he had to do something. He stepped forward at the same time as Harry blasted a protection charm between Voldemort and Molly.

"I don't want anyone else to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me." Voldemort hissed.

  
  


"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good...."

  
  


"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

  
  


"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people. I did the exact same thing my mother did."

"Dumbledore cannot help you now Potter! He is dead!" Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, "I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

  
  


"Yes, Dumbledore is dead, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant. Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die, undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

  
  


"Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against the last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard... The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance..."

  
  


Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at his face.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco a few hours ago. I took his wand from him."

  
  


Harry twitched his wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does... I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

  
  


"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

  
  


The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead centre of the circle they had been treading. The Elder Wand fly high. Harry caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Voldemort hit the ground with a dull thud.

  
  


A moment of stunned silence, and those who fought the good side erupted into applause and raced for Harry. They gripped him tight in hugs. Dean watched the celebration as the tiredness of the night and the grief hit him full force. Walking away from the cheering wizards, he walked back inside to the Great Hall, where Sam's body still lay. Dean knelt beside his brother. The anger had been blown in the midst of the battle, and now, all Dean could do was stay by his brother's side and comfort his family the best he could. Dean had known it would only get worse, but he didn't realise how right he would have actually been at the time.

  
  


They had conquered everything they had ever faced. Azazel, Lilith, Ruby, Alastair, even the devil. But now.. Sam was gone, along with Samuel, Deanna and Castiel, but there was one thing Dean knew. As long as the Winchesters were alive there was always hope.


	29. Epilogue: The Road So Far

**Epilogue**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, May 6 th 2011**

The rain was still pooling on the ground as the casualties from the war were laid to rest. The funerals had lasted several days. Dumbledore's had been yesterday and now, it was Sam's. Dean was the last to emerge from the castle. He carried his little brother down to the casket that was waiting for him. John and Mary had offered to help him but he refused.

  
  


“ _Mom, Dad, I've spent so much time with him when we were growing up. I need this... I need to do this alone.” He told them_

They didn't understand why he needed to do this alone. Ever since they were young it was just the two of them, Mary was dead, and John was gone all the time hunting down monsters. Dean thought it would only be proper for him to be alone with his brother one last time before he was all alone again.

  
  


Dean walked, stone-faced down the mossy hill from the school. Hiding his emotions was what he did best. He never showed people how much pain he was really going through. Not only was that his role as a big brother, but as a hunter to. Never show that you care about anyone. Your enemy can use that against you, a superhero complex if you will. The only one who could ever see through Dean’s façade was now gone from this word, never to return.

  
  


Mary, John, Bobby, Jo, and Ellen were waiting for him, as well as half the student body. Since the brothers had first come to the school, everyone had come to know and love them like family. Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing closer to the hunters, Hermione had silent tears streaking down her face, and Ron held her in his embrace, trying to hold back his own tears. Harry was emotionless as he watched the procession. So many of his friends had died today, he had lost count.

  
  


Dean finally made it to the casket. This time he didn’t push Mary and John away as they helped him lower Sam’s body into the coffin. Dean couldn't bear to burn his little brother's corpse. It was cruel. When he thought about it, the rest of his family, apart from Sam, had gone in flames. His mother had died in the fire, and Jessica had too, just twenty two years later, their father, who's body was burned two days after his death, and finally, Adam. He had spoken to the hunters about it. The tattoo would still work to keep anything evil out. Bobby had told him that the tattoo they both had was one of the main reasons he had allowed Dean to be buried. Dean cleared his throat as he stood back up. 

 

“I’m not good at this. Sammy always was the smart one you know.” He laughed a little. “But I wanted to say a few words, about my brother.”

Everyone was silent as Dean composed himself. “When we were kids, I was always responsible for Sammy. I always felt like he never got to have much of a childhood, we moved around so much that it was hard for him to make friends, so I was all that he had, other than my Dad. My brother sometimes made my life a living Hell, and I would know a thing or two about Hell. But I wouldn’t change a single day of it. He, uh, made some wrong choices over the years,” He paused to look meaningfully at his father. “But he made them for the right reasons. There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for this kid, I even went to Hell for him.” he paused again; he tried to keep his emotions in check. “I’d do it again too.” If there was anything that Dean could do to bring Sam back he would do it in a heartbeat. Then his façade crumbled and his true feelings showed. 

  
  


“Dammit Sammy I’m your bigger brother, I was supposed to die first!” Tears poured down his face. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Jo finally came over and consoled Dean. Mary had tears in her eyes as well, John was holding her close.

  
  


As Dean looked at his brother, and watched as the other hunters and the students came to pay their last respects, he thought that he had seen Sam’s eye twitch and then again when he thought his finger had moved. But he disregarded it as a trick of the light. Hopefully God wouldn’t be so cruel as to let Dean believe that Sammy could still be alive, not after everything they had been through.

  
  


Dean sighed. He pulled the small cord from his pocket. Hanging from it, was a small vial. Filled with silvery blue liquid. A few hours before, Dean had extracted some of his memories, the best childhood, teenage years and adult years he spent with Sam. He had put them into the small vial. It was his last gift to his little brother. Gently, he lifted Sam's head before he slipped it around his brother's neck.

“Love you little brother,” Dean whispered. Winchesters never told each other that, it just wasn't said much. Their expressions of love were simpler, like giving up your bed for the night, getting dinner, or not eating the last of the cereal.

  
  


Dean's head bowed as he placed his hand on the coffin lid. Applying pressure, The coffin lid began to close, but just before it shut, a white glowing light shone from under the lid. Dean gasped as a pale hand wrapped around his wrist from inside the casket. Several of the watchers screamed. Dean looked down in horror and was met with the confused and scared eyes of his little brother.

“Dean, what the-? Why am I in a coffin?” Sam gaped. 

“Sammy... you've been dead for the last four days,” Dean choked.

“What?” Sam gasped.

“Look there’s something in the water!” They heard someone shout.   
Everyone turned to see the surface of the black lake was being disturbed by ripples coming from the centre. A trail of bubbles were coming closer to the edge of the lake and a head of dark hair broke through the surface.  
“Oh great what now?” Dean tried to go for his gun but Sam still had a death grip on his hand. “Uh Sammy?”  
“Sorry.” Sam smirked as he let go.  
Dean rubbed his wrist; Sam was a lot stronger than he used to be. He focused his attention to the black lake. He noticed that the rest of the hunters that were left had taken up positions around the lake Dean walked over to the lake and aimed his gun at the head. “Whatever you are you son of a bitch you’d better come out before I unload this gun and send you back to Hell.”  
“I’ve been to Hell Dean, it’s not that great of a place.” Castiel’s voice echoed through the air. His head broke through the surface and the rest of his body followed soon after that. 

“Cas?” Dean breathed. “Christo!” he yelled.

  
  


“I am not a demon, It is me Dean.”  Castiel replied, blue eyes focused on the hunter. Dean swallowed and walked forward..”What was the last thing you said to me?”

“I apoligised before telling you that the Leviathans had to die,” Castiel replied.  Dean smiled.

“Okay Cas,” Dean continued. He and Castiel turned to the others.

“Sam,” Castiel smiled. “I see my spell worked.”

“Spell?” Dean and Sam asked in unison. Castiel walked forward.

“Yes Sam, Dean. Shortly before your death I placed a spell upon you that you would both be reborn after you die,” Castiel explained.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

  
  


“You are now an Angel of the Lord, Sam,” Castiel announced. There was murmurings among the crowd.

“What?!” Sam exclaimed. “That's bull Cas.”

“Sam, I can prove it to you. You can see my wings,” Castiel said, and Sam's eyes widened, because it was only then that he noticed the huge black wings uncurling from Castiel's back. His sight was sharper, and he could see that the feathers were not completely black. There were tones of midnight blue hidden amongst the other scattered colours, dark grey, indigo in some places amongst the black. Sam found he could flex the muscle in his own wings and outstreched them. They were as large as Castiel’s but Sam’s wings looked like they belonged to an eagle the multiple feathers in different shades of brown astounded him. _Sam Eagle,_ Sam thought of  the Muppets character with an air of amusement.

  
  


“I bet your wings are huge Cas,” Dean grinned cockily. 

“Yes, they are, but all Angels have large wings Dean,” Castiel replied, 

“But how is that possible Cas?” Dean asked.

“The spell is very difficult to complete. It took me months to find the ingredients, and  to place the spell on the both of you.”

“Wait, you did this to me too?” Dean exclaimed.

  
  


“Dean, among the billions of humans on earth. You two have earned this noble act. A human has never gotten a higher rank if you will, in Heaven since the Son died for your sins,” Castiel told them. Dean's eyes were still wide. He was going to become an Angel when he died. It was extremely difficult to absorb. Had Castiel even thought that maybe they didn’t want to be a bunch of dick Angels?

“How does this actually work?” Sam asked, his gaze travelling to Jessica. She stood, running into his arms. He held her close as he waited for Cas to continue.

  
  


“Your soul has been transformed into Grace,” Cas informed with a soft smile. “The Grace is keeping your body alive, when that curse that you were attacked with  insures death, your Grace prevents it.”

“Like a demon possesses a corpse?” Dean interrupted, looking at Castiel’s slightly smiling face.

“It is similar, but not exactly the same,” Castiel replied. “Sam’s body is kept alive by his Grace.”

“But Cas.... I shouldn't be an Angel..” Sam trailed off. “The blood.”

“It is gone. Your blood is cleansed, and all of it is yours,” Cas replied patiently.”Right now, even though you are fully grown, you have the experience of a fledgling.”

“A fledgling?” Sam asked.

“A baby Angel, for lack of a better term,” Castiel explained. “I can teach you to use your Grace to fight, heal and much more.” 

 

A slow clapping sound drifted from the end of the aisle. There stood.Crowley, hands in his suit jacket pocket. Beside him were two demons, one of which was Ruby, who smirked at Sam.

“Interrupting a service am I?” Crowley announced brightly as he smiled.  “Moose, you look different... wait.... You have _got_ to be kidding! You’re a freakin’ Angel!” 

“I am not kidding Crowley,” Castiel growled, stepping forward.  Ruby and the male demon stepped forward. 

  
  


_Follow my lead Sam,_ Castiel’s voice drifted into Sam’s mind. He looked a little startled. 

_What the hell?_ Sam thought. 

_Angel radio as Dean calls it,_ Castiel told him without speaking. Cas strode forward, past the funeral’s attendees and placed one hand on the male demon’s forehead and the other on his mouth, whose eyes and mouth under Castiel’s hand glowed white before the corpse fell. Sam followed and without hesitation, watching as Ruby backed away, he pressed his hand to Ruby’s forehead, feeling as the power of his Grace burned the demon from the inside out.

Sam was left wide eyed as Ruby’s host fell. Pure hatred ran through him for the demon who had turned him into a monster, something that made Dean look at him differently. Sam and Castiel turned, facing the King of Hell. They didn’t need the Angel radio to know what each other were thinking. Just as they were about to step forward, Dean spoke.

  
  


“Cas, Sam, move,” he said. Dean was holding the Colt up, pointing directly at Hell’s King. Dean had found that there was just one bullet left in the Colt after Ruby had repaired it all those years ago. Dean pulled the trigger and the bullet shot forward, impaling Crowley in the forehead. Crowley’s body jerked several times, lighting up in a vibrant orange light, before he fell to the grass below. Dean turned the gun upward and blew the smoke away.

“Checkmate,” he grinned. Sam snorted.

“No one messes with us Winchesters,” Dean grinned.

 

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


**One Year Later**

Dean and Jo Winchester left their house a little less than a year later. Dean held a squirming baby girl of almost four months of age. Cassidy Mary Winchester was looking at the world around her, green hazel eyes, cooing and gurgling. Dean laughed. Cassidy had the starting of what would be her father’s hair colour, a sandy blond. Her features, even though she had her father’s eye colour, were completely her mother’s. 

“Come on sweetheart,” Dean grinned, hearing her laugh and giggle. He chuckled as he strapped her into the back seat of the Impala. 

So much had happened in the last year. Sam and Castiel had been working together to get rid of demons. A new demon, Marcus, had taken over since Crowley’s death. Sam and Cas had helped to put Heaven back in some sort of order. Sam learned more and more everyday. It was annoying to have Sam suddenly appear in a room at some points. Dean swore Sam did it to annoy him sometimes. 

  
  


Sam and Jessica married a month after the battle had ended and they had their own baby now, Johnathan Dean Winchester, who was only two months of age. Nephlims, the children of Angels and humans were normally dangerous creatures, but since Sam was once human, Castiel assured that the baby would inherit only human traits. And he was right. His son was purely human. John and Mary lived with Bobby in his home. Sam and Jessica lived nearby, as did Dean and Jo

  
  


He closed the back door on the Impala, and smiled. Cassidy had been born almost two weeks overdue, on November 2nd 2011. The day, just 28 years before, was barely spoken of, the day that tore the Winchesters apart. Everything came full circle. Dean would have scoffed at this type of fairy tale ending years ago, saying that it could never happen, but it _did_ happen. 

  
  


Dean slid into the drivers seat and turned on the radio. _Kansas’ “Carry On My Wayward Son”_  blasted through the stereo. Dean grinned.

_Carry on my wayward son,_

_They’ll be peace when you are done,_

_Lay your weary head to rest,_

_Don’t you cry no more._

  
  


Then, the life of a hunter was fraught with danger and death. Now, after settling down, life was perfect. The road so far in the past year was everything Dean had dreamed of and more....

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! I hope you liked it!


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